Awkward Questions
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: Anko is the only person who would ask Ibiki such awkward questions, and Anko is probably the only person Ibiki would give such honest answers to. Anko/Ibiki. Now a multi-chapter story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This has now turned into a multi-chapter story.

* * *

Awkward Questions

**Chapter 1  
**

* * *

Ibiki and Anko lounged in the break room after a typical morning. They both needed the break. Physically intimidating and psychologically outwitting prisoners was a tough job. To stay fresh, one needed to take breaks at regular intervals.

It was just him and Anko right now. Usually, he'd be having lunch right now, but he'd had a late breakfast, so all he was having was coffee.

Anko raised an eyebrow. "So…did you cover all the mirrors and stuff when you came back from that…mission thingy?"

"What?" Ibiki said, bemused. He'd been trying to read the paper. It was obviously impossible when Anko shared the break room with him. So he folded the paper and picked up a stale sugar cookie instead. He took a bite to assess its toughness, then dunked it in his coffee before continuing. It was salvageable. And food. Sort of.

Anko gestured to her own face in a vague kind of way, eyes wide with curiosity. "When you came back with your face…you know." She bounced slightly in her seat. Sitting never sat well with Anko. She was a get up and go kind of girl. Ibiki had to admire her energy.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow humorously at her way of mincing words. Usually she was as blunt as a bulldozer. "You mean, when I came back with my face scarred up."

"Yeah." Anko looked at him brightly.

"I never did that." Ibiki shook his head and glanced down at his coffee. Little pale crumbs floated in it. He took a sip and gazed down at the folded paper, considering picking it back up and reading the article headed 'Apartment Costs Rising for Tokubetsu Jonin'. Either that was a mistake, since shinobi didn't have individual housing rates, or the article had to do with the pay grade of tokubetsu jonin changing. The newspaper was run by civilians; he had no idea what went on in their heads.

"What did you do?"

At the question, Ibiki glanced up at her again. Trust Anko to be bold. "What did I do when I came back with my face all scarred up?"

"Yeah."

Ibiki shrugged. "Nothing. My career doesn't rely on my face, anyway."

"But…um…" She chewed her lip and then leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hand.

Ibiki had to chuckle. "It's not like I was part of the Seduction Squad or anything. I'm an interrogator. Scars just make me scarier." He grinned.

"What about…your personal life?" Anko asked. Her expression was hovering dangerously close to sympathy.

"I didn't have one," Ibiki said.

Anko straightened in apparent outrage. "What? No wife? No kids? No girlfriends hanging on every word to be horrified when you return looking like you've been fed through a meat grinder? That's so boring!"

Ibiki snorted. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Anko gestured to herself, laying her hand on her chest. "I had people who cared about me." She looked proud of that fact.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Anko nodded. "Mm-hmm. A mommy and a daddy and a kid brother, and an aunt and an uncle and a cousin – no, two cousins – and a teammate from school, and – and a next door neighbor!" She puffed out her chest tomboyishly, oblivious to the fact that her chest was a lot more womanly than it had been when she was little.

Ibiki couldn't fake the small, fond smile that tugged at his lips. "That's really nice."

Anko pointed at him. "You need someone to care about you!"

Now this was getting a little less fun. Ibiki hid behind the newspaper. "Mm," he grunted.

"I would've cared, if I'd known you," Anko declared. "But we didn't meet until after this crazy stuff happened."

Ibiki didn't doubt it. Anko was actually a pretty sweet girl. One reason why she'd made such a terrible apprentice for Orochimaru. He still didn't put down his newspaper and engage her. He wanted this conversation to go away.

"Biki…"

Now she was using her sing-song tone against him. Ibiki ignored her. _Rising housing costs, huh…?_ He couldn't concentrate with the feeling of her eyes boring holes through the newspaper to get to him.

"Biki," Anko said again, sweetly, as if she were trying to coax a stray cat.

Biki sighed and put the newspaper down. "What?"

"What did you do?" Anko asked.

Ibiki's eyebrow twitched. So it was back to this again. "Everyone reacts differently."

"So, what did you do?" Anko asked. "You didn't cover up the mirror, and you didn't have a girlfriend or a wife to disappoint, and you didn't think of it as affecting your job. I got all that. You still didn't tell me what you did react like."

"Honestly, it wasn't the scars that bothered me all that much," Ibiki mumbled. He was suddenly self-conscious. He'd never discussed his reactions with anyone. Not even a therapist. Plenty of therapists had been thrown at him to try to get him back on his feet, but he'd never confided in any of them. Nothing that hadn't been strictly need to know so he could get the right medication and process the right set of feelings to go back on active duty.

He shifted uncomfortably in the armchair. "Is that shallow?"

Anko looked shocked. "Shallow? That's the opposite of shallow!" She spread her hands. "You're way not shallow, not to think of the scars." She tilted her head and poked him in the arm. "So what did bother you, Biki?"

"Coming back alone," Ibiki mumbled.

Anko looked stricken, and then she cringed. "Oops. My bad."

Ibiki sighed. "You sure make this hard on yourself, don't you? Asking difficult questions and then being upset by the answers. It's not good investigative technique."

"Biki, I want to know you better," Anko said.

Ibiki sighed. "I noticed." He kept wanting to call her 'sweetie' or 'honey'. For all he knew, those were secret attack words for a girl like Anko, and he'd end up holding his own spleen, bleeding out all over the floor, and not even Tsunade or her apprentice would be able to reach him before Anko tore his throat out.

He really didn't know her all that well. Nothing past the obvious.

"Biki, how come you wear a bandanna?" Anko asked. "If you're not worried about the scars…"

"It's because my head gets cold," Ibiki said, smiling ruefully. "I never got used to that part. It's really cold, being bald. I didn't expect it."

Anko giggled, surprised, and that bloomed into full-fledged laughter. "I never thought of that!"

"I know," Ibiki said, amused. "No one does. They're all preoccupied with the scars, and the holes, and things, and they never stop to think about the fact that not having hair could be damn cold."

Anko flopped back in her chair, relaxed. "Hey, Biki-chan, what do you do after work?"

"Go home?" Ibiki said, feeling as though this might be a trick question.

Anko rolled her eyes and grinned at the ceiling. "And…?"

"Take a shower," Ibiki said.

"And then…?"

"Eat a meal," Ibiki said. "Usually a frozen dinner. You know the ones with the frozen vegetables and the pasta and the sauce all rolled into one, and all you have to do is put it in a skillet for like seven minutes? I love those. They're so easy. And they don't take any brains to cook right, which is good, because I don't have any brains left after outwitting prisoners all day."

Anko glanced at him. "What happens then?"

"I watch TV," Ibiki said. "Or if I get home too late for that, because someone decided it was a good idea to shut off the cable at midnight around here, I pop in a movie."

"Okay," Anko said. "What happens then, Biki? What do you do after you watch TV?"

"I go to bed," Ibiki said.

"Wow." Anko popped upright in her chair.

"What?" Ibiki asked.

"That's boring."

He should have expected that. "I know. I'm a very boring guy."

Anko rubbed her chin, shaking her head. "You're not a boring guy, Biki, you do boring things. There's a difference."

Ibiki found himself flattered, just a little bit, that she could make the distinction. So many people couldn't.

"So what did you do?" Anko asked.

Ibiki felt like he was stuck in a time loop. "What do you mean?"

"About the scars," Anko said. She traced lines on her face where his scars would go if she had them. "You said you didn't hide from them. So…what did you do?"

"I put shea butter on them," Ibiki said dryly.

"Shea butter." Anko looked at him blankly.

"Because that was what the med nin directed," Ibiki said. "Shea butter."

She blinked.

"And vitamin E," Ibiki said.

Anko squinted and rubbed her chin. "Biki, man…"

"It didn't help," Ibiki said.

"Huh?" Anko tilted her head, surprised. "No, I think it probably did. What I was going to say was…" She hopped to her feet. "You're a pretty interesting guy." She gave him a dazzling smile.

Ibiki smiled back, feeling a slight warmth in his cheeks. Oh, he knew that a cute, young girl like Anko would definitely never have a thing for him – except to bother him and generally come in at all the wrong times and interrupt his work – but it was nice. It was nice to be talked to this way by a pretty girl. Or, you know, by a nice girl. A nice, pretty girl was a bonus.

Anko leaned forward, far into his personal space. He didn't mind it. He was used to it. "Biki-chan, can I touch 'em?"

"Hmm?" He met her eyes. "Touch what?"

"Your scars," Anko said, as if that were obvious. "I want to know what they feel like."

Ibiki laughed. Anko's forwardness was refreshing after being treated for years like some kind of delicate, not-quite-leper-like person. "Yeah, sure, go ahead. You can touch them."

"Sweet!" Anko leaned in almost within kissing distance and felt up his cheeks with both hands, petting. After a few moments, she zeroed in on his scars, tracing them. "They feel kind of slick. Shiny. Soft." She tickled his chin, seeming to feel around just for the fun of it. "You've got stubble here. Does that mean you still have to shave?"

Ibiki chuckled at the warm, tickling touches and grinned. "Yup. Every day."

Anko grinned in return and scratched him underneath the chin like a cat. "You like that."

Ibiki flushed, heat suddenly crashing into his cheeks. "Uh…"

Anko sat down in his lap. "Poor precious. You don't get many cuddles, do you?"

"Now, wait a minute," Ibiki protested. "Who told you that you could sit here?"

Anko wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, snuggling her head against his shoulder. "Me, neither. Let's cuddle each other."

"Anko…" Ibiki poked the side of her head.

Anko giggled. "Biki."

Ibiki wondered if he could squirm out from under her. Probably not. And he didn't want to tempt Anko's predatory side to emerge by acting like a mouse. "This isn't a very nice joke…"

"What isn't?" Anko asked, raising her head and peering at him. "What joke?"

Ibiki was caught. No matter what had happened to him, he always tried to appear confident. Confidence was part of his stock and trade. Without it, he would be a lousy interrogator. But on the other hand, Anko had to know that this was all part of some silly joke, some innocent flirting mixed with girlish curiosity. After all, she knew what was going on in her own mind. She wasn't actually a little girl, and there was no such thing as plain, old, non-sexual cuddling between an affection-deprived man and a full-grown woman.

"You're coming onto me," Ibiki said carefully. "And you have no intention of going through with it."

Anko tilted her head, studied him for a moment, and then smiled an absolutely beautiful, easygoing, boyish smile. "I'll ride your love stick."

"Anko!" Ibiki was tempted to shove her off right now, but he knew how sensitive to rejection she actually was. He didn't want her to hang herself or something, and he didn't want to have to order suicide watch for her because he couldn't handle the situation.

"Is that what you're worried about?" Anko asked. "I'll do it. Is it scarred like the rest of you? Or – Oh! I never asked if you could have children. That could be important. Do you have all your baby-making equipment in working order?"

Ibiki stammered and choked. "N-No," he said finally, thankful that there was no one else in the break room with them.

Anko relaxed against him, curling up on him as if he were a big pillow. "Oh, good. I'd hate to be the only one with busted equipment." She patted her abdomen. "All gone. I'm totally busted. Barren as a rock. Orochimaru did that to me when he experimented on me. Not that I think he meant to. He was a little clumsy, that's all."

Ibiki didn't know whether to be horrified or not. That kind of information was not entrusted to him as part of his job. He suddenly appreciated that this situation might be crazy, but she was serious.

"Ne, Biki?" Anko poked his temple.

"Yes?" Ibiki asked, dutifully focusing on her instead of on his insides, which were threatening to panic.

"Will you love me?"

_Now this is exactly the kind of question that makes this a terrible idea. I can't be responsible for hurting you. I – I –_ "I think I already do," Ibiki said.

"I know that," Anko said. Her expression was serious. "I mean…will you still love me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"In the morning?" Anko watched him closely.

Ibiki swallowed. "In the morning…after…what?"

Anko snorted and rolled her eyes. "After we have sex, silly. Are you going to love me, still, or are you going to be one of those guys who throws his conquests away like used tissues? Cause I'm not a masturbation tool."

"I know that," Ibiki protested, shocked. "I would never – I could never treat another human being…that way." He blurted it out without thinking. That might have been his only way out of this situation, and he blew it with honesty.

Anko smiled and cupped his face with her hands, leaning in until their noses touched. "You're sweet."

"But…uh…what if I'm not…attracted to you?" Ibiki asked feebly. It was a slim chance, but he had to take it.

Anko chuckled, grinning. "I see the way you watch me."

Ibiki's eyebrows rose involuntarily in surprise. He strove to look innocent. That was hard, considering his face felt as hot as if he were looking into an oven. "How is that?"

Anko pressed a little, playful kiss to his lips he could feel her smiling through and pulled away. "You like me."

"Maybe I look at everyone like that," Ibiki challenged. At the same time, he was instantly cataloguing how it felt to be kissed, and his heart was beating harder. He hadn't been kissed before his capture, and he sure hadn't been kissed after. Until now.

Anko giggled, squirming with restless amusement as if she really enjoyed this game. Again, she reminded Ibiki of a twelve-year-old boy. That comparison wasn't flattering for his sanity.

_What am I, a pedophile?_ Ibiki inwardly sighed at himself. _I shouldn't be attracted to her. I can't. _

"You don't," Anko said, poking the tip of his nose. "It's just me." She grinned proudly. "You look at me like you want to pounce."

"I do not!" Ibiki protested.

Anko burst into more giggles. "No, but it was fun to see your face change when I said that."

Ibiki felt cheated and manipulated, and, well, like he was on the wrong end of one of his own interrogations. "I have never wanted to pounce. I have wanted to be gentle and take your hand and ask you out to a restaurant like a gentleman."

Anko melted, blushing, and snuggled against him. "Awww. You're sweet. I could tell. I could tell you would be sweet. I just didn't know you were this sweet." She petted his head.

Ibiki knew he was probably doomed after that kind of confession. "Okay, let's move this somewhere private, at least. I don't want anyone to come in on this." He stood and helped her to her feet at the same time.

"Aww, Biki, why not?" Anko looked up at him with wide eyes.

Ibiki sighed. "Because they would think badly of you. Worse than they already do. And they think I'm a sadist, so…"

"A sadist?" Anko's expression drained of all cheer. She looked horrified. "You?"

"Some pop psychology crap about pent up aggression and revenge," Ibiki muttered, looking away. "I don't really get it any better than you do." It was one thing for Hatake Kakashi to believe it. The man was a porn addict with no sex life of his own, so he needlessly speculated about everyone else's. But everyone in his own workplace believed he was a sadist, too.

He glanced at her. "Wait. Haven't you heard the rumors?"

"They spread rumors about me, too, Biki," Anko said seriously, taking his arm and smoothing her thumb over it. "I don't think they let me in on their little gossip circles. They're afraid I'll find out what they've said about me."

"Or, they're afraid of you, period," Ibiki said.

Anko made a face at him. "Aren't you afraid of me, Biki?"

"No," Ibiki said firmly. He took her chin, cupping it gently. "Not even a little bit."

Anko seemed frozen for a moment. Then she let out a squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck, jumping up on him and clinging. "You're perfect!"

Ibiki had never been called perfect before. Not even before he was a hulking, scarred interrogator.

Anko kissed his cheek repeatedly and gushed. "That was so romantic. Oh, that was so perfect. With the chin hold and everything. You're a romantic, Biki, and I love it." She wrapped her legs around his waist "Now carry me into the sunset."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ibiki said. He gave her a stern look, trying his best not to let his lips twitch upwards in a smile that would betray him. "If I carried you into the sunset, it would burn you to a cinder."

Anko burst out laughing and jumped down, letting go of him.

"Laugh if you like," Ibiki said, turning towards the door. "I don't need Anko-death on my hands, after everything else that's happened."

Anko slipped her fingers through his, holding his gloved hand. "I'm not gonna die, Biki. I'm invincible. If Orochimaru couldn't kill me, no one can."

Ibiki glanced at her. "It's not that he couldn't, Anko. He just didn't feel like it."

Anko made a face. "You obviously don't know my teacher. He's never 'just felt like' sparing someone in his entire life. His entire snakey life is filled with nothing but merciless cruelty."

"I'm sorry," Ibiki said softly. "I can't imagine that people say that to you often, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the things he did, and I wished I could have stopped it."

Anko clung to his arm, pressing against his side. Her face was vulnerable like a little kid's again, and Ibiki found himself vowing to himself that he would do anything to keep her from harm.

Now that was a job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Now a multi-chapter story. It grew.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

After work, Ibiki and Anko left the office together, walking side by side. He was aware of how foolish they looked together.

He towered over her, looking more like a drug dealer or a gangster than anything else with his leather duster, scarred face, and bandana. If it weren't for his slate gray police uniform, he'd be arrested.

She, on the other hand, was a typical kunoichi in an oversized trench coat missing its belt. He supposed that it was barely possible she could be mistaken for a hooker. That was about as much of a visual connection as they had to each other: they could be mistaken for criminals.

"So where are we going, Biki?" Anko asked cheerfully.

"First?" Ibiki glanced at her. "My apartment."

"Why? Gonna get all dressed up? That's cute, Biki." She grinned at him.

"No," Ibiki said. "I need to take my medication."

"Medication?" Anko looked at him with curiosity.

Ibiki snorted, grinning at her expression. "You don't think I'm this stable without a pharmaceutical miracle, do you?"

Anko laughed.

"If you want a date instead of a breakdown, we better go by my place," Ibiki said.

"Either one sounds interesting, Biki-chan, but you promised me a date." Anko seemed singularly unfazed by that kind of talk.

Ibiki supposed that was a good sign.

**xXx**

Ibiki stopped in front of the door of his apartment, pulled out the key from an inside coat pocket, and unlocked it. He opened his door and gestured. "Here it is."

"I get to come in?" Anko bounced on her feet, looking thrilled.

"Well, I can't leave you in the hall," Ibiki said. He glanced at her and then entered his apartment, taking off his sandals in the foyer area like any good Konoha native. He slipped on his house shoes.

Anko entered and followed suit, playing at being a good guest, at least for now.

Ibiki closed the door and locked it. "I always lock it. Don't think it's anything personal."

"Huh? Sure." Anko was too busy looking around his apartment to pay much attention to him.

He knew the décor couldn't interest her for long. His apartment was nothing special. It was just a small kitchen with a white tile floor, counters and cabinets and appliances crammed into the space in the usual way, a small dining area to the right and a living room beyond that, separated from the kitchen by a partial wall.

"Just don't break anything," Ibiki said. "I'll be right back." He walked through the house to his bedroom at the other end of the apartment, and through his bedroom to the master bathroom. He fished out a key from his pocket and unlocked his medicine cabinet.

He'd installed the medicine cabinet after his recovery from enemy hands. Some of the medications he'd been put on could be cooked to make street drugs. It was irrational to think that anyone would dare to break into his apartment, but it made him feel better security-wise nevertheless.

After washing down a variety of multi-colored pills with two glasses of water from the sink, Ibiki pulled off his gloves, washed his hands, and then powdered them moderately with talcum powder. Talcum powder made it more comfortable for him to wear his gloves for longer periods of time.

He slipped his gloves back on, flexed his fingers, and nodded. _Guess I'm going on a date._ He had a fair idea of how many jokes there were about him and his dating potential, or lack thereof. Most of them were even pretty funny. Genma had told a good one that he still didn't know Ibiki knew.

Ibiki left his bathroom, only to be confronted with Anko, inspecting his bedroom. "You like it?" he asked wryly.

Anko took in the king-sized bed with dull navy covers, and the pale slate blue paint on the walls. "It's okay."

"Believe it or not, the apartment came this way," Ibiki said. "I haven't painted the walls once since I moved in."

"That, I can believe." Anko studied the pale ivory carpet underfoot for a moment. Then she grinned at him. "Cause you'd pick a cheerful color for this place, like yellow or pink, right?"

Ibiki chuckled. "Right."

"Can we try out the bed?" Anko asked.

Ibiki was taken aback, but after a moment's reflection, he didn't know why he hadn't seen this coming. "Sure. If you want to take a nap before dinner."

Anko pouted. "A nap is not exactly what I had in mind, Biki."

"Then you don't need a bed, do you?" Ibiki asked reasonably.

"There are other things beds are good for," Anko protested.

"Oh?" Ibiki scratched the underside of his chin and looked away, feigning ignorance. "Like what?"

Anko grinned. "It's a comfortable place to have sex." She sauntered up to him and pressed herself against his back, her hands going to his hips.

Ibiki tensed in spite of himself. _Okay. Line crossed. Line crossed. What to do? _He turned around to face her.

"Don't go so fast," Ibiki said gently but firmly in a voice specially designed to stop her without hurting her feelings.

"Why not?" Anko asked. She looked up at him with dark eyes and a furrowed brow.

_Oh, god, she's hurt anyway_. Ibiki cleared his throat and fidgeted, then squeezed her hands. He wanted to look away, but even visual rejection might hurt her further. Instead, he gave her the gentlest look he could. "It's not romantic. You wanted romance, remember? I couldn't let you do a thing like that. Why don't we go to a nice restaurant or something?" He tried a small smile.

"Oh." Anko's eyebrows rose, and her voice was tiny, startled. "You're scared, aren't you?"

Ibiki flinched, and he immediately hated himself for it. "No, no, no. I'm not scared." He mustered a glare.

Anko giggled. "You are." She kissed the tip of his nose. "It's sweet."

"It is not sweet and I am not scared," Ibiki declared.

She wrapped her arms around him and gently rocked him. "Biki-chan, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not going to be hurt," Ibiki said. "I know that. I am also not having sex with you tonight, Anko-chan. Maybe some other time. Like when it hasn't been less than ten hours after we started going out."

"Oh, that's no fun." Anko pouted. "You're too used to doing boring things, Biki-chan."

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "What happened to dinner, then?"

"Dinner's boring."

"Even if I buy you dango?" Ibiki asked.

Anko let her head fall back dramatically. "I don't want dango. I want Ibiki. I want Biki-chan's love stick deep inside me."

"Whoever taught you to sweet talk is full of crap," Ibiki said, wanting very much just to peel her off of him. He was blushing and embarrassed and a little bit – _Only a little bit,_ he told himself fiercely – scared. "I don't even think that's the right way to talk dirty."

Anko gasped. "You mean the porno lied?"

Ibiki looked at her skeptically. He couldn't tell if she was joking.

"I thought the way to get a man into bed was talk about his love stick –"

"If you say love stick one more time, this is off," Ibiki said. "I'm being serious. I can't stand that term, and I think it's disgusting."

"Penis," Anko hastily redirected.

"It's a start," Ibiki said. "Go on. I'm listening."

"I thought the way to get a man into bed was talk about his penis and how much you wanted it deep inside you." Anko looked at him with wide eyes, scanning him. "It's supposed to drive him mad with desire so that he can't resist you, and then you have sex for like, hours! And then you get up in the morning and you're all rumpled and stuff…but you feel good." She grinned. "That last part's from a movie, but I stuck it on there at the end because I never saw what happens at the end of the porno."

Ibiki had to try not to laugh. That would give her entirely too much encouragement. "No, Anko-chan. That's not the way to get any good man in bed with you. It might work on lust-crazed perverts, but not on me."

Anko looked disappointed. "Then what do I do to get into bed with you?"

Ibiki smiled fondly and slipped his arms around her, hugging her gently. "You date me. You go on a series of dates. And if they go well enough…I'll get into bed with you. But only then."

Anko nodded, suddenly turning determined. "Kay. Got it. How many dates do I have to master before I can sleep with you, Biki?"

"Hmm…" Ibiki had to think. "How about…six?"

"Three," Anko immediately said.

He should have known that she would haggle with him. The buyers and sellers at the marketplace hated her because she haggled over everything like her life depended on it. "Five," he said firmly.

"Four," Anko said. "Final deal."

Ibiki snorted. "You're the one who's trying to sleep with me. So I don't think so."

Anko wilted slightly, and then rallied. "Well, I must be worth something, or else we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Ibiki was stricken. _She's serious, isn't she?_ "Anko, you mean a lot to me." He cupped her cheek with one hand. "That's why I can't…"

Anko poked the tip of his nose. "Hey. You said you wouldn't use me and throw me away." She grinned cheekily. "So why does it matter when we have sex the first time? It won't be the last time, and you'll take me just as seriously as before. So you are you trying to protect? You, or me, Biki?" She tickled his sides.

He gritted his teeth and resolutely refused to show that it did tickle, a great deal. He gave her the I'm-in-charge smile and refused to answer.

"Cause I think you've got a big case of good ol' fashioned stage fright," Anko said. She smacked his rump playfully. "Come on. Off with the pants and let me see it. Come on, Biki-chan…"

"You don't think I'm going to take off my pants because you tell me to, do you?" Ibiki asked.

Anko pouted. "But I can try…"

"Fail," Ibiki said succinctly. "Now pick a restaurant to go to. I'm hungry."

"Someplace with great dango," Anko said immediately.

Ibiki laughed. "Okay. Some place with great dango, then."

"Yes!" Anko grabbed his arm and clung to it, flushed with happiness.

Ibiki was glad her personality was so mercurial. All it took to push her back into the happy zone was to offer her something she liked.

He opened the door for her, and they hit the street, headed for a little restaurant Ibiki knew on the edge of town that made dango just the way Anko liked to eat it.

Anko knew immediately where they were headed and launched into an adorable improvised song about dango that had Ibiki smiling the entire way, in spite of himself and his precious reputation to uphold. That somehow mattered less than seeing Anko happily bouncing alongside him on the way to their first dinner date.

**xXx**

At the little restaurant, the hostess met them without batting an eye. She was part of the family that owned the place, and she'd seen him and Anko often enough not to be alarmed. Most other places would ask if there was a criminal in the building. It came with the job.

The hostess got them a booth on the other side of the restaurant from the few other patrons who were already there, knowing that Ibiki and Anko both liked their privacy after a hard day of work at T&I. She left menus with them and promised to come back with tea and complimentary egg drop soup.

Ibiki grinned, settling back on the cushy bench seat. He loved the egg drop soup. As much as Anko loved her dango, probably, though she would deny it as long as she lived. According to her, no one could love anything as much as she loved dango.

The hostess came back with a tray laden with a pot of tea, two tea cups, and two bowls of egg drop soup. She set the table for them and bowed. "Is there anything else you would like?"

"Water," Ibiki said. "Please." He smiled at her. By now, he knew that he wouldn't scare her if he did.

She nodded. "Water." Then she looked to Anko. "And for you?"

"Dango," Anko said blissfully. "Lots and lots of dango."

"Of course." The hostess bowed and left, presumably to start making as much dango as this restaurant could possibly produce at one time.

Ibiki started in on his egg drop soup. Its rich, salty, chicken flavored broth was like liquid gold. He savored his first bite, like he always did, closing his eyes and emitting a soft, "Mm."

Anko didn't touch hers. She didn't find egg drop soup remotely interesting. Which was fine with Ibiki. It meant he always got two complimentary bowls of egg drop soup instead of one.

After the first spoonful, Ibiki ate his soup normally, but slowly.

"Ne, how come you're called Ibiki?" Anko asked.

Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "That's my name?"

Anko bounced in her seat. "But how come? It means 'snore', doesn't it?"

"I had cruel parents," Ibiki said. "It happens."

"What about Idate?" Anko asked. "What's that mean?"

Ibiki sighed. "It's actually Idaten. Idate is a nickname I accidentally created when I was little. Idaten means 'great runner'." He smiled wryly. "He was the favorite, or can't you tell."

"So you're a snore, and he's a great runner?" Anko furrowed her brow. "That's mean."

"I think so," Ibiki said. He ate a bite of egg drop soup.

The hostess came back with two glasses of ice water.

Ibiki thanked her. Then he glanced at Anko. "We ready to order?"

"Yeah!" Anko gave the hostess a dazzling grin. "Short ribs – with lots of spice! And a side of chicken yakisoba. With plenty of broccoli. I love broccoli."

The hostess bowed. "Of course. And you, Ibiki-san?"

Ibiki tried not to chuckle. "I'll have…um…" It took him a moment to think, with Anko grinning and squirming restlessly in her seat. "Crab," he said suddenly. That would be a nice treat. "If you have any. Steamed crab with steamed vegetables?"

The hostess bowed again. "It is no trouble at all."

"Thank you, very much," Ibiki said. He meant for having a restaurant where he and Anko could eat, and even have a first date, without being stared at, but he couldn't say that out loud. It would make him seem far too insecure. And he wasn't insecure, not really. He just knew the facts. At other places, people would stare, make jokes, and even pick on them. Not to mention it would be crowded and noisy. This restaurant was perfect, and he wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

The hostess merely bowed, smiled, and said, "Your meals will be ready in less than half an hour." She walked away, her gait steady and graceful. She was a small women, always dressed in a traditional kimono, with her dark hair piled on top of her head in a classic twist. Ibiki liked her a lot.

Ibiki went back to his soup, smiling.

Anko watched him eat, her hands folded underneath her chin and her elbows propped on the table. "How come you always eat soft foods? I noticed it doesn't matter what you're eating, it's always soft."

"It's my teeth," Ibiki mumbled.

"Your teeth?" Anko looked startled.

He swallowed. He reached for his water and washed the salty soup down, then said more clearly, "My dentures. My teeth." He lifted his upper lip so she could see the line of the denture fitted up against his gums.

Anko almost fell all the way forward and smashed her face into her egg drop soup. "No way…"

"Yes," Ibiki said, amused at her reaction. He took another bite of egg drop soup. "How do you think I can eat, after being interrogated by the enemy? It's not because I have any teeth left." He held up a hand and hastily corrected himself. "Well, okay, I have six." He tapped his chin. "All on the bottom."

"Wow," Anko said. She looked at him with wide eyes. "How can you stand it?"

"I think I'm lucky someone invented dentures," Ibiki retorted.

Anko snorted and then rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I mean, how can you stand not having any chewy or sticky foods, like short ribs and dango?"

"I know that's your favorite meal, so I can see why you would be dismayed," Ibiki said, leaning over and cupping her cheek. "But that's why I'm glad it's not you that has the dentures. I can live without those things."

Anko blushed and cupped his hand to her cheek with her own. "You're heroic, you know that?" she whispered.

"Why is that?" Ibiki asked quietly.

She gave him a look as though it should be obvious. "Because you gave up dango!"

Ibiki laughed. "To be fair, I could have sticky and chewy things, if I wanted to. But it makes too much of a mess for me to feel like handling it."

"Now ask me something," Anko said, as abrupt as ever. She squeezed his hand and then let it go. "We're supposed to be trying to get to know each other, so ask me something, ne, Biki?"

Ibiki smiled at her and shook his head. "I don't know what to ask."

"Aren't you the least little bit curious?" Anko straightened and pouted.

"I'm curious about a lot of things," Ibiki said.

"So ask!"

"I was taught it's not polite," Ibiki said, after a moment of embarrassed silence, He supposed he always wondered things about her, but his mind was blank right now, and now was when it counted.

Anko laughed. "Biki-chan, it's okay. You're not going to insult me."

Ibiki tried to think of something that he could ask here, in the restaurant. "Why are you called Anko? What's your name mean?"

Anko laughed again. "Isn't it obvious? Come on, you know me."

"There are lots of different ways to write 'Anko'," Ibiki challenged.

Anko exhaled, and looked a lot more serious. "So you didn't take the bait. Huh." She played with the straw in her ice water. "It means 'apricot child'."

"I think that's a nice name," Ibiki said.

Anko pouted, staring at the condensation on her glass. "Yeah, my parents liked me a hell of a lot more than your parents liked you. I was precious."

Ibiki stirred the last spoonful and a half of egg drop soup, wondering how to form words for a moment. "You still are precious."

Anko looked at him, startled, and almost knocked over her glass of water.

"You're precious to me," Ibiki said, clarifying in case he was about to get an argument.

Anko melted. "You're so romantic. And sweet." She giggled. "How come we didn't do this before?"

"Because you never sat in my lap before," Ibiki said.

"Darn it!" Anko snapped her fingers. "I should have thought of that first."

Ibiki chuckled.

"Some wiseguy who no longer has a tongue suggested I was named 'cheap child'," Anko said. She scowled. "Just because you can spell 'Anko' that way doesn't mean my parents were losers."

"No, it doesn't," Ibiki agreed. "They obviously had good taste to cherish you so." Ibiki wondered what had happened to Anko's parents; he didn't actually know. He wondered if that was the kind of question he was supposed to ask during this first date interview. He didn't think so. Still…it was the only lead he had. "So…it is past tense or present tense?"

"Huh?" Anko took a disinterested bite of egg drop soup and then pushed it towards him, serving herself some tea instead.

"Your parents," Ibiki said.

"Oh." Anko made a face. "Past. Way past. They died six years ago."

"Six years ago?" Ibiki frowned. He tried to think of what could have happened six years ago. Then he stopped himself. _Why am I assuming it was a violent death? Not everyone dies from being ripped apart or crushed._

"Yeah, you know that guy who did the bombing in that one place?" Anko said, swirling her straw in her glass of ice water. "That was my parents' neighborhood. They died, and I was left all alone. That's how I joined T&I."

"Oh." Ibiki wondered blankly how he didn't put it together, then realized he'd only become the head of T&I five years ago. He wouldn't have had that kind of access to a new recruit's files. "And your brother?"

"Died in the Kyuubi attack," Anko said. "That really sucked."

"Your life is just as bad as mine," Ibiki blurted.

Anko grinned at him. "Kinda. That's why we're good for each other, don't you think?"

Ibiki gave her a small smile. "Tell me about your brother," he said softly.

Anko wrinkled her nose. "Tajiro was such a showoff. He was always saying, 'Big sister, big sister, watch this!' And then he'd do something really stupid." She gave Ibiki a crooked smile. "It was kind of cute, though. After a while. I kind of miss it." She laughed. "These days I act out for the two of us. I told him I would: I'd fill the gap that he left since he's such a slacker."

Ibiki knew instantly he'd never be able to get annoyed at one of Anko's pranks ever again. "Tajiro. That's a nice sounding name. What does that mean?"

"Next Waterfall Son," Anko said. "That's because our father was Waterfall Son – Taro." She made a face. "Not as nice as my name, I know, but boys get those kinds of names. Heir names."

"Yeah." Ibiki nodded. "It's really common."

"He liked it, though," Anko said. She took a sip of water at last, after playing with the straw for so long. "He said, 'Dad, I'm gonna be just like you!'"

"Was he?" Ibiki asked.

Anko shrugged. "I dunno. I never got the chance to see. No one did."

"Oh."

She snorted. "It's okay, you know. I asked you to ask me these kinds of questions. If you don't ask me now, you won't ask me later, either. Let's get the big stuff out of the way."

Their food came. The hostess cleared away Ibiki's finished bowl of egg drop soup, and Ibiki pulled Anko's soup over to his side.

"Well, it's your turn, now," Ibiki said. "It's got to be, because I've gotten several more questions in than you."

"You have?" Anko looked confused. She counted on her fingers. "Nuh-uh! You got only one more than me. 'Tell me' isn't a question. It's a request." She grinned and attacked her dango. "Keep going."

"Even if I only asked one more question than you, it's still your turn," Ibiki said.

"Alright, fine." Anko chewed dango with abandon, took a drink of tea, then worked on her short ribs. "How come you never dated anyone before? T&I is full of hot chicks."

Ibiki almost gave her the answer he gave anyone else who pried into his dating life. He stopped himself. Instead, he busied himself with getting the top shell off of his crab and digging out some meat. "Would you like the easy answer, or the real answer?"

Anko grinned. "Where do you think I work all day? The real answer, Biki. That's much more interesting to me."

"I have lots of reasons," Ibiki said. He ate his first bite of crab. "First of all, in practical considerations I can't afford to date my co-workers and I can't get enough time off to get to know someone else. Most of our co-workers would jump at the chance to sleep with me just because they want advancement, or because they want to know what it's like. Either way, it's a selfish conquest for them. It doesn't appeal to me. Just having sex isn't enough."

Anko nodded slowly, absorbing all of that. "So what are your other reasons?"

"I never fell in love with anybody else," Ibiki said simply. "Only you."

Anko looked at him with wide eyes, and then her lower lip started trembling.

Ibiki almost had a heart attack. "Don't cry. I just – I'm sorry!"

"Sorry?" Anko exclaimed. "What are you sorry for?" She wiped the tears from her eyes. "That was beautiful! And romantic! And I love you too!" She bawled, definitely loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, and used up her napkin on blowing her nose.

Ibiki was caught between cringing and laughing. "Holy shit."

Anko started giggling at that, and just couldn't stop.

Ibiki had to laugh with her, at the end. "What was that?"

Anko blew her nose a final time and wiped her eyes. "Whew." She tilted her head, looking mildly surprised at the question. "Romance makes me cry. Didn't I warn you?"

"No," Ibiki said wryly.

"Oh." She leaned over and smacked his arm playfully. "Then I guess that's one question you should've thought of asking before you became so romantic."

Ibiki grinned. "I guess it is."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

After dinner, Anko devoured a another plate of dango, and then they were on their way. Ibiki had to admit that his first date had been successful by anyone's standards, not just someone who was desperate to make it work.

They hit the street, Anko holding onto his arm. He could get used to that.

"I'll walk you back to your apartment," Anko said brightly.

Ibiki gave her an amused look. "Isn't that my line?"

Anko took his arm. "Maybe, but we came from your place."

"True enough." Ibiki found himself smiling again. He hadn't smiled so much in…Honestly, he didn't know how long. His childhood hadn't been particularly happy. Neither had his adolescence. And his adulthood…self-evident.

The walk back to his apartment was pleasant. He didn't often have company when walking to his apartment at night. Irrationally, having an escort felt good. He knew he could take care of himself. He also knew just which police officers were on patrol at which locations, and how to signal them should he need help. But all the same…he didn't have that tingling feeling on the back of his neck with Anko walking by his side.

She accompanied him into the apartment as well, taking her second visit with nonchalance now that she knew she was allowed to enter.

"Well, we're here," Anko announced, stretching. "The Hallowed Abode of the Ibiki."

"I can see that." Ibiki gave her a bemused look. "Thanks for walking me home."

Anko gave him a dazzling smile. "No problem! I'll walk you home whenever you want me to, Biki-chan."

Ibiki knew that most men would have taken offense to that statement. He even knew a couple who would have throttled her right here and now. He didn't have much respect for any of them. Ibiki crossed the space between them and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Anko-chan. I appreciate that."

Anko blushed.

"Good night," Ibiki said gently.

"Good night?" Anko tilted her head and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Uh-huh," Ibiki said. He couldn't help smiling in amusement. "It's nighttime, isn't it?"

"Yes, but…"

Ibiki shook his head and walked out of the kitchen, crossing through the living room on the way to his bedroom.

He was not entirely surprised that Anko followed him. _Well, that's alright._ He took off his leather duster and hung it up in his closet.

"What are you going to do now, Biki?" Anko asked, watching him.

"Go to bed," Ibiki said. "What do you think I'm in the bedroom for?"

"I don't know," Anko said innocently. She crossed the bedroom and wound her arms around his waist from behind.

Ibiki snorted. "Well, I can't go to bed like this. I don't know how to sleep with an Anko on my back."

Anko giggled and let her hands slide down. "Then do something else."

Ibiki flinched. "What are you –" He looked over his shoulder at her.

Anko grinned up at him innocently, tightening her hands on his belt. "I'm helping. Just helping."

"Anko, I'm not sleeping with you tonight. The deal was four more dates, and then you would get to see what you seem so desperate to get to." Her fixation on getting into his pants was a little frightening.

"Most men want to get this over with," Anko said.

"Where did you hear a thing like that?" Ibiki protested.

"The grapevine," Anko said.

Ibiki gave her a look. "You mean Inoichi." That was virtually Inoichi's nickname, like Maito Gai was The Green Beast and Hatake Kakashi was The Copy Ninja. _The Grapevine. Hn. Fitting. I'll have to tell him that when I see him next. _He doubted Inoichi would be offended by such a nickname. The Yamanaka clan was infamous for their information gathering skills.

He laid his hands over hers and rested them there gently. "Please let go of my belt, Anko. You're scaring me." He hated to play the vulnerability card, in case it didn't work, but he had to trust Anko after working with her and having dinner.

Anko's hands fell away from his belt.

He turned around. Ibiki looked at her for a moment, and then cupped her face in both hands, guiding her to look up at him. He weighed his level of inner stability and where he thought his boundaries were. He really didn't want to sleep with her tonight. But, on the other hand, she wouldn't keep insisting if the idea of sleeping with him didn't provide some kind of sizable incentive or relief for her. He had to think about Anko's needs, too.

Ibiki took a deep breath. "If you need to feel me inside of you to know that I love you, I am willing to do so. But I have to undress myself."

Anko looked up at him with glistening eyes, her lips slightly parted as if she were teetering on the edge of crying. Then she let out a squeal and flung her arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips excitedly. "Biki, that was so romantic!" She quoted him, deepening her voice. "'If you need to feel me inside of you to know that I love you, I am willing to do so.'" She grinned. "That gave me shivers!"

Ibiki was instantly off-balance again. "I really am serious about undressing myself."

She touched their noses together and rubbed gently, nuzzling nose-to-nose. "I know that, sweetheart. I'll leave your belt to your own two capable hands."

"Thank you," Ibiki said, relieved. At least he could breathe easier now.

Anko let go of him so he could work.

Ibiki took a deep breath. "I know you're probably enthusiastic about undressing me because of those pornographic movies you've watched, and how much the men in those videos seemed to like it when women hung all over them and undressed them, but I can't guarantee that's ever going to happen. I'd probably freak out still, even if we've been married for twenty years and have three kids."

Anko gestured. "We're not having any kids, remember? We're both totally sterile."

"Yes, I know," Ibiki said patiently, unbuckling his belt with a small smile. "But are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening," Anko said. "You said I can't undress you because you'd freak out. I think that's really sad, Biki, but you know I'm going to respect your boundaries. Cause that's the kind of girl I am." She folded her hands behind her back to demonstrate. "I'm not gonna touch you unless you want me to. I don't even have to have sex tonight, if you don't want. I'll go away and lock the door and stuff, and not come back in through the window or bug you or anything."

Ibiki let his hands fall away from his belt and tried, counter-intuitively, not to get all weepy on her. "That's sweet," he said quietly.

Anko beamed, blushing. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Ibiki said.

Anko giggled. "Are you gonna let your belt hang like that? Or are you gonna take it off? You look pretty silly, Biki. Like I interrupted you getting out of the bathroom or something."

Ibiki glanced down at himself and flushed. "Well, it's your fault," he said lamely. "You distracted me by being sweet." He finished taking off his belt, letting his pants fall down around his ankles. That revealed his scarred, slightly misshapen legs, but not anything else. He was wearing boxer shorts.

Anko looked at his clothed crotch blankly. "Oh. You're wearing underwear."

"I always do," Ibiki said dryly. "It's a dress code issue. Underpants are kind of mandatory, don't you think?"

Anko scratched her head. "I thought guys didn't do that."

"Porn, again?" Ibiki guessed.

"Yeah…"

"That's just a movie."

"It's in all of them…" Anko trailed off. She frowned, looking mildly annoyed. "Porn lies."

"I know," Ibiki said.

"I ought to write those porn producers a letter to give them a piece of my mind," Anko said. "Fair representation. I want to be warned when my man has underwear on."

Only Anko. Only Anko could say such a thing. Ibiki was beginning to see that this was one reason why he had fallen hopelessly in love. There just wasn't anyone like her. He knew there wasn't anyone like anyone in the most technical sense, but there really was no one _like_ her. Even a little bit. She was her own beast. And it was incredibly intoxicating.

Ibiki smiled at her, thinking of her finding the studio where the objectionable porn was filmed and upsetting the proceedings. "Maybe you should look them up in person."

Anko gasped and then planted her hands on her hips. "I totally should!"

Ibiki chuckled, satisfied that he'd caused enough chaos to last a month. "For now, you'll have to get used to the idea that I wear miniature pants underneath my pants."

"Yeah…" Anko rubbed her chin. "That does seem a little redundant, doesn't it?"

"Don't you wear underwear?" Ibiki asked.

Anko gave him a sly look. "I thought you wanted to wait three more dates until you find out."

Ibiki laughed. "I don't have to see it to find out. And it's four dates, Anko." He wasn't going to let her haggle him any lower, no matter what sneaky tricks she tried.

Anko pointed. "Then how come I wasn't warned about that?"

"I'd have told you if you'd have asked," Ibiki said. "My wearing underwear isn't much – or anything – of a secret."

"Oh." Anko looked a little let down. "So everybody knows this except me."

Ibiki patted her shoulder. "It's okay. You're not the only one. And it's not like anyone else has seen me in my underwear. In that way, you are the only one that has this information."

She brightened. "Really?"

"Really." Ibiki nodded. "I haven't dated anyone since my experience, and I hadn't dated anyone before. I hadn't thought it was that important. I was a little busy with other things – advancing my career, raising my brother, that sort of thing."

"So I'm your first date. Ever." Anko's eyes widened. "No wonder you want it to last as long as possible. This is all you're going to get." She punched his arm playfully. "Hot damn! Let's do this in style. Ne, Biki-chan?"

"That was kind of the idea," Ibiki said, smiling. He was glad that she had finally caught on to why he was making such a big deal out of this.

Anko flapped her hands at him. "Now go off to bed. You look silly standing around in your shorts."

Ibiki grinned and crossed the room, shedding his shirt and climbing under the covers of his king-sized bed. "Yes, ma'am."

Anko marched over, bent down, and kissed him on the temple. "Good night, sweetie. I'll be here in the morning."

"Why?" Ibiki asked.

"To cook you breakfast after the sex we didn't have," Anko said. She skipped out of the room.

Ibiki had to laugh. "Make sure you get one of my shirts to wear from the closet," he called.

"I will!" she replied with cheerful sincerity.

Ibiki went to sleep happier than he had been in a long time.

**xXx**

Ibiki woke up with a start to the certainty that someone was opening his closet. He let out an undignified snort as he woke, proving that he had been snoring like no one's business. The instant he was awake, he grabbed the kunai under his pillow and sprang out of bed.

He was confronted with Anko smiling sheepishly at him.

Ibiki froze, cognizant of standing in his boxers. He looked at the kunai in his hand. He was standing over Anko, in his boxers, with a weapon in his hand. Not the way he thought he would start the day. Ever.

"You gave me permission to break in," Anko said, still cringing a little bit, even though she had to know by now that he wasn't going to ruthlessly attack her.

"I gave…" Ibiki lowered the kunai slowly. Their parting words last night came back to him.

Anko pulled out an old black t-shirt from behind her back and held it up. "See? Stealing your shirt. Hehe?"

Ibiki smiled and tossed his kunai onto his bed. He could finally breathe. "You shouldn't have done that. Not without waking me."

"I can see that, now." Anko made a face at him. "I wanted to sneak in and out without waking you so that I could surprise you with a breakfast already cooked and waiting."

Ibiki couldn't explain to anyone else the utter sweetness of this moment. He knew he would never be able to. Anko's actions were a major breach of shinobi code. And yet, she'd done it out of the naïve desire to please him. He wanted to hug her. _Breaking in and sneaking into my bedroom to do a good deed. That is so you. _

All he said aloud was, "Carry on, then."

Anko brightened. "Yes!" She shucked off her own shirt and donned his so much more enormous one so quickly that he didn't even get a flash of her bra. She posed proudly, his shirt hanging off of her like an absurd black nightgown.

"Lovely," Ibiki said.

Anko bounced out of the room, grinning. Her parting words floated back to him from the hall. "Biki-chan, you just sleep in until I come to get you, okay?"

Ibiki knew that he could never go back to sleep now, no matter how sincere she might be in wanting him to get some more sleep while she cooked.

Besides, he needed to retrieve his teeth from the bathroom and shave. Not to mention put on his gloves. He didn't know how Anko had managed not to react when seeing his scarred hands, but he supposed being threatened with a kunai had taken priority. He looked at his heavily scarred, ridged fingertips and sighed.

Then he shut himself in the bathroom to get ready for work.

He was shaving when Anko returned, and she spoke so suddenly that it took all of his training not to nick the underside of his chin.

"Breakfast's ready! Get dressed and come get it!" Anko called from the other side of the door.

"Be right there," Ibiki said. "Shaving."

"Got it."

He finished up in a few strokes and patted his face with a washcloth.

Ibiki waited until she'd gone back to the kitchen and pulled on his bathrobe, just to show that he was not at all bothered by her presence and that he would get dressed when he felt like it. He left the bathroom thus attired, in a fluffy red bathrobe on over his boxers.

He entered the dining area and sat down at his table.

Anko turned at his entrance and burst into giggles. "Biki-chan…that's really cute." She shook her head. "I made you an omelet and some rice." She raised the square omelet pan in demonstration. "Is that good?"

"Wonderful," Ibiki said warmly.

Anko beamed and served them both breakfast.

Ibiki knew that most people in their division thought Anko's cooking was toxic, so he didn't know what to expect. Not a perfectly made tamagoyaki and bowl of rice. It was a normal breakfast. He ate it gratefully, considering it head and shoulders above an energy bar bought from a vending machine on the way down to his office.

"When can you move in?" he joked.

"About a week from Thursday," Anko said. "That should give me time to get out of the lease on my apartment."

Ibiki smiled fondly. He didn't have the heart to tell her he hadn't been serious. And the idea of Anko moving in with him, even on such short notice, didn't alarm him. If anything, his lack of worry revealed how lonely he'd really been. "That's great. Would you mind moving in here that quickly?"

Anko shook her head. "Mm-mm." She took a big drink of orange juice.

_Orange juice…_Ibiki belatedly put something together. "Wait a minute. I don't have any orange juice."

"Yes, you do," Anko said. "I put it right in front of you."

Ibiki glanced at his matching glass of juice, and then gave Anko a look. "You know what I mean. My fridge hasn't contained orange juice in…ever. Ever. And not eggs for three weeks now."

"I went shopping," Anko said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Ibiki sighed, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I did if you wanted breakfast," Anko said. "I snuck a peek last night as I was leaving. Man, you had a desert for a refrigerator. A cold, cold desert."

Ibiki laughed. "And now it's stocked, is that it?"

"For a little while," Anko said brightly. "I'll have to shop again before I move in, but yeah. It's got stuff in it."

Ibiki shook his head. "You are something else, you know that?"

Anko finished her glass of orange juice and started on his. "Yeah? Like what?"

Ibiki softened. _All this work, and we haven't even been going out a whole day. Anko… _"Something wonderful," he said gently.

Anko melted. "Biki-chan…I love you."

"I love you, too," Ibiki said honestly. He was a little flustered inside that they'd exchanged two I-love-you's in less than twenty-four hours…but maybe this was normal for couples. He'd have to do some research in order to find out. _I should ask Inoichi. He has a wife. _

Now he just had to get over his fear of looking utterly stupid. That was going to take a while. No one stole his confidence out from under him like Yamanaka Inoichi.

After breakfast, he retreated back to the bedroom in order to get dressed. Anko came with him in order to return his shirt. He turned his back while she changed, pulling out regulation slate blue pants and jacket from his dresser.

He paused when Anko bent down and poked the back of his left calf. "That's a nasty one, Biki-chan. How did you get that one?"

"Believe it or not, that's a surgery scar," Ibiki said, amused. He knew the puckered scar looked terrible, a vertical line from the back of his knee running all the way down to his ankle. "It didn't heal well, I'll admit. But that's because my body was already taxed from all the other healing I had to do."

Anko straightened and got out of the way, allowing him to put on some pants. "Surgery? What for?"

Ibiki resisted the urge to make a face. "My leg," he said mildly.

Anko made the face he wished he could have made. "I know that." She twirled around and faced the door. "Alright, it's time to go to work cracking some more nuts for their sweet, juicy meat on the inside."

"Is that sexual, or do I have an overactive imagination?" Ibiki asked as they headed out the bedroom door.

Anko laughed. "Overactive, I think."

"Ah."

Their arrival together at work didn't raise any eyebrows. The half dozen or so people who were already there were hard at work, and had been for almost six hours now. Most of them would get off work in an hour or two in order to get some sleep, while the next shift of interrogators took their place.

**xXx**

Ibiki worked at his desk, going through the reports of activity in the village last night. All the police reports went through him as well as the reports written up by the guards stationed at Konoha's gates. It was boring work, but he found himself unusually content. He sipped his can of green tea while he worked. This morning, Anko had gotten it from the vending machine for him. Usually, he'd have to go out there himself. That was an unexpected perk of dating, and he had to remember to do something considerate for her in return, so things didn't get unbalanced around here.

"Taichou," a familiar voice called from outside his door.

"Enter," Ibiki said, striving to sound as absent-minded as possible.

Inoichi walked into his office, carrying a document, and paused, taking him in for a moment. Then he grinned. "You're aglow, Captain."

"No I'm not."

Inoichi paused and raised an eyebrow.

Ibiki inwardly cursed. In his automatic reaction, he'd forgotten the number one rule: never contradict a Yamanaka.

"Let me guess," Inoichi said, cheerfully closing the gap between them and setting his memo down on Ibiki's desk. "First date."

"That's right," Ibiki said, hoping his agreement would make Iniochi rethink the assessment. "Because I, Morino Ibiki, go on dates."

Inoichi grinned and tilted his head. "Well, you did last night…" He trailed off suggestively, propping one hand on his hip and waiting for his captain's response. His body language begged Ibiki to ask how he knew that.

Ibiki contemplated what to do. Inoichi might have taken over the information-gathering side of T&I's responsibilities, but he still reported to Ibiki. Which meant that Ibiki could fire him. In theory.

In practice, Ibiki knew he was stuck with the man forever, just like he was stuck with everyone else in the division.

"I'm not going to ask you how you know that," Ibiki said dryly. "Neither am I going to hand you another denial, and let you lead me into a discussion." He slid the document Inoichi had brought towards him, picked it up, and glanced at it. "Now, is this all? I'm a busy man."

"Busier than you were before," Inoichi agreed. "Juggling a girlfriend is harder than it looks from the outside. If you need any help…" He winked. "Give me a call. I'll be in my office like always, Taichou."

"You are way too close to me in rank to be properly respectful," Ibiki grumbled. "I ought to demote you and get you out of my hair. Figuratively speaking."

Inoichi laughed.

"Go back to your flower shop, Yamanaka." Ibiki made shooing motions.

Inoichi bowed. "As you wish, Captain. I live for your commands." He sauntered out of the office, looking much too pleased with himself for Ibiki to not suspect he'd somehow given Inoichi all the information the man wanted anyway.

Ibiki hoped to god it was an interrogation trick.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Anko cart-wheeled into the room and popped upright in front of his desk.

"Hello," Ibiki said without looking up.

"Second date!" Anko cheered.

Ibiki looked up from his paperwork, a confession in triplicate. "A second date? Already? Don't you want to wait a few days and think it over?"

"Nope!" Anko leaned forward, planting her hands on his desk, and touched their noses together. She grinned. "You might escape. Then I'd have to waste time hunting you down."

"I am so much more athletic in your imagination," Ibiki said.

Anko laughed.

"I'll have you know that while I might be twenty-nine, my joints are eighty," Ibiki said. "I am not up to a hunt, be that as predator or prey."

"Poor Biki." Anko kissed the tip of his nose and straightened. "Where shall we go tonight?"

"You pick," Ibiki said, going back to reading the confession. He was supposed to sign off on whether it was authentic or not, as in, whether or not the accused was actually the perpetrator. So far he found the wording of the confession a little confusing. Tonbo's work tended to be that way. He'd have to talk to Tonbo in person before signing off on it one way or another.

_A talk about taking some writing classes might be in order soon, _Ibiki mused. _This is getting old._ True, he'd put up with Tonbo's writing style for years, but he'd expected the man to improve over time.

"Nuh-uh," Anko protested.

"What?" Ibiki glanced up again, concerned. "What is it? What's the problem?"

Anko pouted. "It's your turn to pick tonight. I picked last night."

"Oh. Well…" Ibiki looked away. He'd never heard of a rule of dating that said partners had to switch off, but he supposed it made sense. "Come back later. Give me time to think about it."

"Okay!" Anko bounced out of the room.

Ibiki wondered when she would be back. He felt an unaccustomed sense of pressure. Usually, he knew exactly what to do, or close to it. His job was a comfortable rut in which to sink into. He hadn't quite realized until now that dating Anko meant disrupting the fabric of his life as he knew it.

In a way, he'd embarked on an adventure.

**xXx**

He didn't see Anko at lunch, which meant she was working hard at cracking her prisoner for the juicy information inside, as per her declaration of intent that morning. It gave him extra time to think. He ended up casting his mind back to what he and his peers would have done as chunin.

When Anko came into his office an hour later to deliver her report on her prisoner, Ibiki was ready. He took the report from her, and then paused.

"A movie," Ibiki said.

"Huh?" Anko looked confused.

"Let's go to a movie," Ibiki said, clarifying. "Dinner and a movie." He hesitated, struck by doubts. "Is that okay?"

Anko hopped onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "That's brilliant!" She smiled at him. "I like it."

Ibiki couldn't tell whether she was telling the truth. But as he scanned her face, he found that her smile was real enough. That was comforting. He smiled back. "Okay. Then what movie do you want to watch?"

Anko made a face. "You pick! You're supposed to be picking these things. Biki…" She squirmed in his lap. "You're supposed to be showing me what you like to do when you want to have fun. So pick a movie that you want to watch."

"I don't know what I want to watch," Ibiki protested. "And anyway, you might not like it."

"So what?" Anko asked.

Ibiki was stymied by that answer.

Anko grinned slyly. "Even if I don't like the movie, I'll still be in a dark room with you, snuggled up in the seat next door. So let's do it. Let's find a movie you want to watch and go to it." She kissed his cheek, and then whispered in his ear, "I won't be above distracting you if I find it boring."

Ibiki flushed. "In a movie theatre? Anko…"

Anko burst out into giggles. "What, Biki?"

"Never mind." Ibiki put on a scowl and looked away.

Anko laughed. "You think I'd…what?" She stroked his cheek, then trailed her fingers down his neck.

"I'm trying to work," Ibiki complained. He could not, absolutely could not, let on how good that felt, or how her fingers lightly brushing against his jaw made his body answer with a surge of warmth.

"Work later."

"Then we can't play later, can we?" Ibiki said, giving her a small smile.

Anko got off of his lap. "Alright…work. But just so you know, Tonbo's confessions are too hard to read because he pulls shifts that are too long, and he needs someone to make him go home at night."

Ibiki blinked. "Advice noted."

Anko waved. "Ja ne." She slipped out the door.

Ibiki tried to go back to his paperwork, but he found he was too flustered to concentrate for another five minutes before he could school himself back into Work Mode.

**xXx**

Dinner was at their favorite restaurant on the edge of town, where they had eaten on their first date. In other words, yesterday. Ibiki was amused to be back, but he couldn't think of anywhere else to go on such short notice, and Anko didn't mind.

While they waited for dinner to be ready, Anko chewed on her beloved dango and drank some tea. Ibiki busied himself with the egg drop soup. Just because he'd had it yesterday didn't make eating it tonight less of a treat.

"Do you like poetry?" Anko asked.

"Not really," Ibiki said.

Anko tilted her head. "Why not?"

Ibiki grimaced, but he actually considered the question. Only because it was Anko asking him. "Too emotional," he said finally.

Anko snorted, and then started giggling. "Too emotional?"

"Yes." Ibiki scanned the menu, wondering what was so funny about his response.

"Give me an example," Anko said.

Ibiki sighed and rolled his eyes, setting his menu down. "Okay. For instance." He cleared his throat and grumbled, "Man's life is a dream, this much we know. It is a house abandoned to butterflies." He gestured. "That's a paraphrase, but you get the idea."

Anko looked at him with wide eyes. "Wow. So you know Sougi."

"I never said I was uncultured, just that I didn't like poetry," Ibiki objected. Sougi was a classical poet.

He scowled. "But here's my point: What asshole dreams of being a butterfly and actually gets confused about whether he is one or not? And how is this something to write about in a poem? It's all nonsense, and when it isn't, it's inane. Poetry is a waste of time." Sougi's poem was about something the philosopher Zhuang Zhi had said. Ibiki remembered just because he had been incensed at the idea of anyone that confused calling himself a philosopher.

"Oh, Biki." Anko smiled at him fondly, resting her chin in her hands. "You're so practical."

"What about you?" Ibiki asked. "Do you like poetry?"

Anko made a face and shook her head, giggling. "No, I hate it."

"Then why did you ask me?" Ibiki protested.

"I wanted to make sure you wouldn't write me any poetry," Anko said innocently. "Romantic people often do that."

Ibiki resisted the urge to smack his forehead. "Order your dango."

Anko glanced down at her plate and saw that it was mostly empty. She waved her hand to get the hostess' attention. "Baachan! More dango, let's go!" She beamed. "And thank you."

The hostess promptly delivered another heaping plate of the rice treat. The older woman teased, "Morino-san, do you not care about the bill your lady friend racks up?"

Ibiki chuckled. "No. I don't, actually."

"Ah." She smiled. "You are very much in love, then." She left with her stately grace, leaving Ibiki to blush.

Anko giggled.

**xXx**

Dinner went off without a hitch. Anko had beef teriyaki and shrimp, and he had miso soup with red snapper. Their talk consisted mostly of work and jokes about what Anko wanted to do to him as soon as they were alone, met with his equally lighthearted objections.

As soon as they were done eating dinner, they left, since they had a movie to catch.

Anko swung his arm playfully as they walked, their hands joined. "So what film are we going to watch?"

"It's a kung fu film," Ibiki muttered. He wished to god he weren't so self-conscious about this, but he was really expecting mockery for being a ninja who liked kung fu films. _I mean, how unrealistic can these films get? Flying through the air without any chakra? And no one could survive a battle with such a crappy taijutsu technique anyway. _

"A what?" Anko looked at him, startled.

Ibiki gritted his teeth. "A kung fu film."

"Kung fu? What's that?" Anko asked.

Ibiki almost fell over. "You mean you've never heard of kung fu before?"

Anko shook her head.

"It's like martial arts," Ibiki said. "Kung fu is a corruption of a word that means a skill you work hard to learn. It's like the word 'jutsu'. But in the movies, the kung fu movies, it's about taijutsu like the kind Maito Gai uses. Except it's all fake."

Anko tilted her head. "And you want to see a bunch of guys perform fake taijutsu?"

"Yes," Ibiki said.

"Okay." Anko cheerfully took his arm and led him inside the movie theatre.

**xXx**

Anko had to be shushed several times by the audience, as she was laughing her head off at the dialogue. Surprisingly, the fight scenes seemed to captivate her. She'd sit forward in her seat, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.

"Did you like it?" Ibiki asked offhandedly on their way out of the movie theatre.

"Man, that was cool!" Anko hugged him.

Ibiki stopped, surprised and pleased, and touched Anko's hair. "Thanks." He looked at her fondly. "You're a great date."

Anko kissed him, full on the lips, and it was even better than the first kiss had been.

Ibiki moaned a little in the back of his throat, and his eyes rolled closed. How could he have missed this, all these years? Why had he tried to? He kissed her back, just starting to get the hang of it when she ended it.

Anko grinned up at him and giggled, blushing. "Biki. We're in a public area. I thought you didn't want to be so public."

"Fuck it," Ibiki said, and pulled her close for a second kiss.

Anko wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on, even after the kiss was over. She pressed her cheek against his chest, seemingly listening to his heartbeat.

Ibiki was breathing slightly harder, and he knew his face was flushed. He imagined his heart rate was a little elevated, too. He wondered how it sounded to Anko. "I love you," he murmured.

Anko nestled her cheek against his chest and let out a small, affectionate giggle. "I love you, too, Biki. Let's go back home and snuggle some more, on the couch. We can watch TV. You say you like that in the evenings."

Ibiki hugged her. "You're right. I do. And that sounds like an excellent idea. Couch snuggles it is."

**xXx**

They settled down on Ibiki's worn out blue couch. Two people sitting on it taxed the poor sofa into sagging, and Ibiki realized for the first time how well-loved this piece of furniture was. If he planned on spending time in his living room as a couple, then he ought to have his sofa replaced, sooner rather than later.

Anko wrapped his arm around her waist and snuggled against his side, making it almost impossible for him to reach the remote and turn the TV on.

Ibiki stretched for it and finally got it after a couple of tries. He clicked the TV into life with a high-pitched buzz of static and glanced down at the top of Anko's head. "What do you want to watch?"

"I don't care," Anko said. She shifted against him blissfully, making it all too obvious which part of the term 'couch snuggles' was more important to her.

Ibiki smiled at her fondly. "Okay. I'll just turn on my usual program, then. It's some kind of game show. I never really watch it, either. I'm always too tired."

"Mmn," Anko said happily.

Ibiki snorted and changed the channel. "I take it this meets your approval."

"Mm-hmm."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Okay." He set the remote down where he could reach it and reclined into the sagging sofa, getting comfortable himself.

The quiet voice of the game show host asking a contestant a question was a calming buzz in the background of his quiet apartment. After several minutes, between the warmth of Anko's body against his, and the familiar voice of the game show host, Ibiki almost fell asleep.

He was brought out of his half-doze by Anko stroking his arm and clasping his hand. His eyes flickered open. "Hmm?"

"Can I hold your hand?" Anko asked.

Ibiki glanced down at their joined hands and gave her a bemused smile. "You are."

"No, I mean your real hand," Anko said. She stroked his hand. "Without the glove on." She gave him a small, warm smile. "I want to hold the hand underneath."

Ibiki wondered what to say. Discomfort warred with his trust in her, with her obvious affection for him…with his fear that her tolerance would disappear when faced with something truly horrible. "I wear gloves for a reason."

Anko tilted her head at him. She appeared to be thinking seriously. "I'll close my eyes if you want. I just want to touch. I don't have to look…"

Ibiki was surprised and grateful. He didn't know if he could have dealt with her looking at his hands. But just touching…it couldn't be as bad as seeing what had been done to them. He nodded. "I'll take you up on that."

Anko closed her eyes without being asked.

Ibiki pulled off his gloves carefully and tucked them into the right pocket of his leather duster. Then, watching to make sure she didn't open her eyes, he gently cupped her hands in his.

"Oh." Anko shifted slightly at the touch, and smiled. She turned the tables on him, rubbing his hands in hers. "I like the warmth of your hands, Biki. Much better than the gloves."

"But you can't see the TV this way," he teased.

"Don't need to." Anko's smile widened to a grin. "I've already seen a whole movie." She lightly stroked her fingers over his, feeling. "You're very sad, aren't you? About your hands?"

"Yes," Ibiki said quietly. He couldn't explain to her how good it felt to have his hands touched. He touched nothing with his bare hands these days, if he could help it. He even brushed his teeth with his gloves on. Usually, they only came off when he was in bed, and then they went on the nightstand so he could put them back on as soon as he woke up.

Anko gently grasped his right hand and lifted it.

His stomach clenched. He closed his eyes, instinctively afraid, and was startled by the feeling of warm softness against his tender skin. Ibiki's eyes snapped open.

Anko was kissing his fingers.

Ibiki swallowed, hard, to keep from making a noise. He was choking inside. In spite of his control, he felt his breath flutter in his chest. He shook his head slightly, breathed in through his nose, and told himself he was not going to cry.

Anko gently turned his hand, kissing her way down to his palm. Then she cupped his hand against her cheek. His scarred, awful hand against her pristine cheek.

Ibiki squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "Humiliating. They humiliated me." He hadn't meant to speak, but the words just tumbled out. He wished he could take them back. His chin was trembling.

Thoughts tumbled over themselves. "I can never – never touch another human being without…forcing someone to touch what they did to me." Ibiki tensed, expecting Anko to draw back, to feel her leaving him.

Anko cupped his hand against her cheek more firmly. "Biki, Biki…you think too much about this stuff." She sounded concerned for him. "I don't think about that stuff when I hold your hand." Her fingers stroked over his damaged knuckles. "This is just Biki's hand." She added sadly, "If I could fix it, I would…but I love your hand anyway. It belongs to you. I love your hands."

Biki felt the pain and fear holding him back break. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, sobs wrenching themselves free from his chest. He buried his face against her shoulder and cried. It was painful. His body jerked with every sob, it killed his throat, rubbing his throat raw with every sound, and yet it felt so good.

"Anko…"

She held him, rocking him gently, able to hold up his full weight without any trouble at all. That was a reminder of her status as a kunoichi. He'd never felt more glad. She could protect him with her strength. He couldn't break her. And he needed the support.

"I had so much nerve damage. It was impossible to move my hands. It took the best medical minds in Konoha to fix me up again. I thought I'd never feel. I'd never feel another thing again, with my hands. But I was wrong…and I took so much therapy to get where I am today; I can feel, I can write, I can hold cups and wash dishes and brush my teeth…fold laundry…But my hands. My hands." Ibiki wished that he could make her understand. Words were inadequate to convey the anguish he felt. "They're so scarred."

"I'm sorry, Biki." Anko kissed his cheek. "I asked about your face, but I never asked about your hands. You did have a reaction to being tortured. You hid your hands."

Ibiki swallowed, trembling. "I can't stand them. I can't stand for you to look at them. Please, don't. Say you won't."

"I'll never look at your hands unless you want me to," Anko said firmly. "I love you."

Ibiki squeezed his eyes shut against another round of tears. It didn't work. They welled up and rolled down his cheeks anyway. "Oh, god…I love you, too. We're not going too fast, are we?"

"Too fast?" Anko sounded startled.

"You're not going to get burned out and leave, are you?" Ibiki asked. He knew it was pathetic, but he didn't think he could stand that. He'd withstood countless tortures, but someone offering him such compassion and then leaving was not one of them.

"Biki-chan…" Anko's voice turned slyly teasing. "I've been stalking you for years."

Ibiki laughed through his tears and thought he could finally stop crying, if that were true.

Anko poked the tip of his nose lightly. "It took forever to get you to notice me."

"I was a little involved," Ibiki said.

"In what?" Anko asked. "Work?"

Ibiki let out another laugh. "In being unwanted. Sorry." He breathed in with a sniffle and knew unequivocally that he had to get up and blow his nose. He took his gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on. He touched her hand to signal the change.

Anko opened her eyes. She looked at him with a steady, serious gaze. "Well, I want you. I want you so bad I would kill for you."

An ache in Ibiki's chest that he never thought would get any better suddenly melted away, easing his pain. He was startled; it had hurt far worse than he had ever noticed. "I would kill for you," Ibiki said quietly. "Every day."

Then, to his embarrassment, he had to sniffle.

Anko giggled. "Biki-chan, I think you need to blow your nose." She hopped up before he could protest and brought back some napkins from the kitchen.

Ibiki made quick work of them.

She kissed his cheek. Then she plopped back down on the sofa and held him.

He wondered if he could ever explain just how healing her words were for him; more than that, his belief in her sincerity. He realized he could never live without such support. With her by his side, insisting on his worth, he had only now begun to live again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was harder to say goodnight to Anko than it was the night before; much harder. Ibiki realized as he waved goodbye to her from the doorway of his apartment that he would need her to move in soon. He could only imagine the feeling of separation would get worse. By the time she moved in, it would probably feel like tearing his arm off every time she left.

Ibiki retreated inside his apartment once she was out of sight. It seemed frighteningly empty without her. He padded to the back of his apartment and got ready for bed, then climbed in.

He drifted off mercifully quickly.

**xXx**

"Biki-chan, ring ring."

Ibiki opened his eyes.

Anko was peering over him. "It's me, your alarm clock."

"I don't have an alarm clock." Ibiki lifted his head and threw his pillow at her.

She shrieked with delight and threw it back. The ensuing pillow fight woke him up properly, and mangled one of his pillows.

They both stared at it for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"I'll pay for it," Anko said.

"No, it's okay." Ibiki hauled himself out of bed. "You get breakfast ready, and I'll put my teeth in."

Anko cracked up again. "No way. You're not wearing 'em? I didn't notice."

"I take them out every night," Ibiki said mildly. "How else are they supposed to get clean?" He padded to the bathroom, prepared his dentures, and put them in. He came out and grinned at her. "Ta-da."

Anko shook her head, smiling. "It doesn't scare me that you have removable teeth, silly. I wouldn't care if you had a removable leg." She winked. "I'd just take it for a walk every now and then."

Ibiki snorted. "Funny, Anko."

"I thought so." Anko popped out of the room, headed for the kitchen.

Ibiki got dressed.

The new day had begun, confirmed by the time showing on his digital clock. He could feel the lightness of the morning sun in the quality of the air, his body's instinctive awareness of time cycles. He felt refreshed by the promise of Anko and breakfast and a long day of working together.

_Maybe we'll even go on a date again. _Ibiki laughed at himself and got ready for work, shaving carefully before he went out to the kitchen to join Anko for breakfast. He didn't want her making fun of him for missing a spot or nicking himself.

Anko folded natto and dried fish into the omelets, and it was good. Ibiki savored every bite, pausing after every mouthful.

"You'll be late to work if you eat like that," Anko teased.

"It's good," Ibiki protested.

"I'll make it for you every day if you want," Anko said. "It's my invention: the Anko Omelet!"

"I love it," Ibiki said. He paused, thinking of last night. "And I love you."

She leaned forward, grinning, and touched their noses together. "I love you, too, Biki."

Ibiki wondered if it could possibly stay this good. If it did, he might end up a married man like Yamanaka. That would turn people's heads: him and Anko getting married. People would probably have nightmares.

He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" Anko asked.

"Nothing." Ibiki grinned innocently. "I'm just happy. It's a happy chuckle."

"Don't let that get around the office," Anko teased.

"I know," Ibiki said. "Me being happy would ruin my reputation forever." He stood and pulled her into his arms, hugging her. "I love having my reputation ruined by a beautiful woman."

Anko looked up at him with narrowed eyes, grinning. "Mm. Just make sure it's me who's doing all the reputation ruining."

Ibiki kissed her. "I'd never let anyone else get near me. I want my reputation to be ruined by the best."

Anko giggled. "Biki, cute."

He grinned. She was the only person in the entire world who could call him cute and mean it. But then, he only needed one.

**xXx**

Work was hard. He had to step in on an interrogation, because Shinobu couldn't make his man crack. It was understandable; the man was a chunin who had killed three people in cold blood, his wife, his mother-in-law, and his wife's sister. He was a textbook sociopath who'd just snapped after one too many disagreements. Ibiki wove a careful net with his words, and after three hours, he got a confession.

Then, the latest ANBU report came in from Ishigakure, and he had to analyze it. The village was small, but well-defended, and their political relationship with both Iwa and Suna was not well-known. They kept to themselves, and that was what made ninja villages dangerous. Kusa was almost as bad, with their slimy diplomacy covering any and every move they made.

Tsunade sent her lackeys Izumo and Kotetsu to inform him she wanted an analysis on the current Ishigakure situation by the end of the day, so Ibiki had to put everything else on the back burner and churn through the oppressively detailed ANBU report as quickly as possible.

He called in Anko to debate with and read to, and together, they composed a bullet point list of the most important findings. He sent her off to deliver the summary to Tsunade, and when she returned, they finally clocked off together.

Stumbling out into the overcast, windy evening was like being thrown onto the face of another planet. Ibiki needed a moment to get his bearings before heading towards his apartment.

"What are we going to do tonight?" Anko asked, looking at him in concern.

"I just want to go home." Ibiki felt bad at the admission. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. I don't mean to be disappointing. I'm just…tired." He wouldn't make that admission to anyone but her.

"Then let's spend an evening in," Anko said. She took his arm gently. "We don't have to go anyplace fancy. Just home is enough. And I can cook you a meal. Maybe we can even take a shower together and lie down."

Ibiki was not quite ready for that level of intimacy. "If we take a shower, we're doing it separately."

"Darn," Anko said, chuckling.

That brought a smile to Ibiki's face. "But I don't object to the lying down part. That sounds like it could be nice."

Anko leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He kissed her lips in return, lightly.

Anko blushed. "Sounds good to me, Biki. You need some lovin'."

Ibiki sighed and felt some of his muscles unknot at the idea of Anko possibly massaging his shoulders. That wasn't out of bounds for a couple, right? "Today was difficult, wasn't it?"

Anko nodded. "But not every day can be like this. So buck up, Biki. Tomorrow it'll probably be a light load at the office."

"I hope so," Ibiki muttered. "Now I'm behind. Thanks to those ANBU assholes who mark every time they pick their nose."

Anko snorted. "Biki. They didn't go that far." She paused. "But they did note all their bowel movements. Yuck."

"At least they didn't say what was in them," Ibiki said. "Thank god for small mercies."

**xXx**

Anko made an excellent beef teriyaki with plenty of crunchy vegetables.

"I'm being spoiled," he protested.

"Sooner spoiled than neglected," Anko said seriously. "There's been enough of that. I'm just here to make up for it."

Ibiki's smile faded. He looked down at his food uncertainly, feeling self-conscious. _I'm not…neglected… _Except, when he thought about it longer than ten seconds, he knew that Anko was right. His parents dying right after he passed the Chunin Exam, leaving him a full-fledged shinobi and Idate's legal guardian…working long hours, trying to keep his brother out of trouble, losing his brother the way that he did… "I don't need special treatment," he said finally, wondering who he was arguing with.

"It doesn't need to be special, just nice," Anko said. She slapped another scoop of meat and vegetables on top of his rice. "Have some more supper."

"Anko…" Ibiki blushed. He didn't know how to explain to her what she was doing to him. _Tearing down my defenses,_ he realized vaguely. The hands had been it. His first real defense against intrusion. Everything before that had been him willingly yielding to Anko's unexpected attention. Well, mostly. Okay, it had been uncomfortable, about as uncomfortable as his silence while he contemplated what was happening to him.

The relief of finally having someone to care about had lured him in. Especially since it was Anko. _Apricot child_. Ibiki sighed. That was oddly fitting. She had been sweet, low-hanging fruit, tantalizing and – so he'd thought – out of reach. "What do I give back?" he mumbled.

"Huh?" Anko's serving spoon slipped, dumping her own second helping back in the wok instead of on her plate.

"If you're taking care of me, what am I doing?" Ibiki asked. "What do I give back, so that you don't leave?"

"Lots of stuff," Anko said seriously.

Ibiki bit his tongue when he realized the utter insecurity of his question. "Alright."

Anko watched him with sad eyes.

Ibiki dug into his teriyaki and vegetables.

After a few moments, his indulgence satisfied her.

When they finished eating dinner, Ibiki rose from the table, picking up his plate and hers.

"Whatcha doing?" Anko asked.

"That was very good," Ibiki said quietly. "In return, I think I'll do the dishes."

"Oh, good," Anko said. She made a face. "I hate the dishes. I love cooking, but I hate doing the dishes." She followed him over the sink while he cleared the table and then hugged him from behind, snuggling against his back the entire time he washed dishes and set them in the drain board.

Ibiki was bemused by this, but he didn't mind. Anko's steady stream of affection made him feel warm. Especially her need to be physically affectionate.

After separate showers, during which Ibiki made Anko promise not to peek, they ended up in clean clothing, him in his much-neglected civilian wear and her swaddled up in his oversized black t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with the strings tied as tight as they would go. She looked ridiculous, and seemed remarkably happy doing it.

"I think this is going to be mine from now on," Anko said, touching the collar of her borrowed shirt before flopping down on the bed beside him.

Ibiki had to chuckle. "Whatever you want."

Anko snuggled up to him. "Mmm. I want." She raised a hand and stroked his chest, then hooked one leg over his.

"Not that," Ibiki said. He flushed. "This is only our third date. We've got two more to go."

Anko shifted, propping herself up against his shoulder, and kissed his cheek. "Then by Saturday."

Ibiki rolled his eyes. "What is it with you?"

"I love you," Anko said.

"I know that," Ibiki said. "And I love you, too." He kissed her lips lightly. "That doesn't explain your carnal urges."

Anko laughed. "If you want to talk about my carnal urges, I'll tell you all about them."

"No, thank you," Ibiki said.

"Aww…" Anko pouted.

"That kind of talk is best reserved for when we're actually going to do it," Ibiki said. "Otherwise, you'll get all excited and want to try it. I'm still not ready for that."

"I understand, Biki," Anko said. She reached up and touched his bandana. "You know you don't have to wear that."

"My head will get cold," Ibiki said.

Anko smiled mischievously. "I'll keep your head warm with my hands. Come on. Put your head in my lap. I'll give you a nice massage."

Ibiki was too amused at the idea not to agree. "Alright. Just don't press too hard on certain spots. I'm sure you'll be able to see what I mean."

"I'll be careful." Anko gave him a wide-eyed look full of sincerity that was enough to melt the hardest heart.

They shifted accordingly. Anko sat up against the headboard with a pillow behind her back, and another pillow across her lap. Ibiki laid his head on her lap and sprawled out across the bed diagonally. After a few moments, he decided that lying on his back was the most comfortable, and settled down permanently.

Anko took off his bandana with gentle fingers and stroked over his scalp with both hands.

Ibiki shivered, and a hum purred in the back of his throat, unbidden.

Anko stifled a giggle and smiled at him. "No one ever touches you here, do they?"

"No," Ibiki said. "Too repulsed, I think. Even the med nins don't bother. The screw holes, and the scars…it's messy up there. I don't think anyone really wants to know how I got them." He shook his head slightly.

"Tell me about each and every one of them," Anko said. "I want to know."

"Do you really want to know all of this stuff?" Ibiki asked. He was afraid he'd unintentionally issued her a challenge.

Anko stroked his head with her fingertips. "Mm-hmm."

Ibiki sighed. He couldn't deny that lying with his head in her lap was comfortable, and the petting was pleasant. And he supposed in terms of his mental health it was supposed to be healthy to confide in people. 'Don't keep it all inside', and all that.

"It was an attempt to dehumanize me," Ibiki said. He glanced up at her calmly. "The physical stuff didn't happen first. First, they made me good and crazy…and then they hurt me."

Anko stroked his cheek. "You weren't crazy, Biki."

"No?"

"Uh-uh." She shook her head. "Not even once."

"I'm glad that you think that," Ibiki murmured. He smiled. "Because I was pretty awfully crazy."

Anko tapped his head with a scolding pout.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on. Laughing Academy stuff. I'm serious." He chuckled at her expression. "It was terrible. I was disoriented all the time. And I fractured into like…" He frowned. It was hard to recall after all this time. And he considered the memory fuzziness a good thing. He didn't want to remember that period in his life too clearly. He just wanted to be glad that it was over. "Five different psyches."

"Five different psyches?" Anko asked, seeming confused.

"Personalities," Ibiki said. "Or identities. It's hard to tell. The terminology's a little different nowadays. They're still refining their research. It used to be called having multiple personalities."

"Oh." She stroked his head, looking sad. "So you got all broken up inside."

"It's really rare," Ibiki said. "Especially in grown men. They said I must have been trying really hard not to give up any information. I went into hiding, even inside of myself. Instead of going catatonic or something, which would have given them free reign to do whatever they wanted with my body, I just created a lot of different identities for myself and convinced myself in each case that I was that person." He paused. "That's the basic theory the psych nins put forth, anyway. That I used my undercover training and a lot of psychological desperation to split myself up and go into hiding."

"That sounds smart," Anko said in a tiny voice.

"Are you okay?" Ibiki asked. "You don't have to hear about it if you don't want to."

Anko shook her head, her gaze falling on him again. "I don't want you to stop. Tell me, Biki. Tell me all about what it was like."

"Well, it was like it was confusing," Ibiki said wryly. "I lost time. Lots of it. That means the blank spots you don't consciously surface as yourself. You hide yourself way deep down, and it's like you're asleep. It can last months or even years before some personalities emerge again. And then it's like a different person wakes up. The different parts of your consciousness all have their separate awareness of time and what's going on. They'll remember the last time they surfaced, but maybe not anything after. It's like compartmentalizing everything."

Anko caressed his cheek. "When did you wake up, Biki? Right after you got taken home? Or was it sometime after?"

"'I' woke up after all of the surgery was already done," Ibiki said. He remembered that well: finding himself staring at the ceiling in a hospital room, wondering why it was so hard to move. "So, three months. I was three months into my recovery when I finally woke up. The last thing I remembered had been week five of my imprisonment. That was when I shattered, apparently. The first time. The theory is that the personalities multiply dependent on the needs of the person. So if it was too difficult to handle for me, then I became someone else. And then, theoretically, if the task got too difficult for that person, my mind would create a new person to handle some of the abuse. And so on. Until I ended up with like five personalities."

He sighed. "I know they're really all me, though. I know that, now. I'm not going to…switch around, or whatever they call that. I'm me again."

Anko touched his head with new interest, looking a little hesitant. "So you have five other people inside of you; here."

Ibiki smiled wearily and took her hand. "Let's not talk about this anymore, Anko. I can see it's getting hard."

"Just because it's hard doesn't mean I don't wanna do it." Anko pouted at him. "I want to know everything about you, Biki. Everything there is to know."

Ibiki sighed. Against his better judgment, he decided to let the conversation go on a little longer. He squeezed her hand and released it. "Alright." He made a halfhearted joke. "But remember that means there are five extra people to get to know, now that you've opened this line of questioning."

Anko grinned and kissed his temple. "Yeah. Who are they?"

Ibiki rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "I have a feeling I'm not supposed to remember these things, but what the hell. One of them is a samurai from the Land of Iron. Another of them is a nin from Sand." He shrugged. "They're all like that. All different. I guess it makes sense. What would be the point in being the same person over and over?"

Anko nodded. She looked at him sympathetically and started petting his head again.

Ibiki cleared his throat. "One of them is a little boy. He's like me when I was little or something." He shrugged uncomfortably. Then he snuck Anko a small grin. "One of them's a woman."

Anko laughed. "You, a woman? That's rich."

Ibiki laughed, too. "I know, right? A big, strong woman. I'm not even kidding, here. She had long silver hair, and get this: she's Jiraiya's sister. I actually thought I was Jiraiya's sister for a while there. His big sister. How crazy is that?"

Anko was in stitches. She was laughing her head off. "No way…That's scary. Jiraiya's big sister would be so scary."

"She was," Ibiki agreed. "Or is. I can never tell with these people I was supposed to have been. They might still be knocking around in my head somewhere. But I probably confused the hell out of the interrogators with that one."

Anko was still giggling. "What about the last one? You said there were five."

Ibiki flushed slightly. "A prince," he muttered.

Anko was confused. "What?"

"A prince." Ibiki felt embarrassed to a terrible degree. "Like a Daimyo's son. I, ah, apparently, thought I was the Rice Daimyo's only son. He has four daughters – in real life, I mean, as I'm sure you are aware. Apparently, I thought I was his youngest and only son for a while there. On and off. Among the other personalities."

Anko stroked his head and looked at him in concern. "How come that one embarrasses you so much? I think you'd make a great prince. Prince Biki." She kissed his forehead. "I like it. I'm going to call you that from now on."

"Please don't," Ibiki groaned.

"You can call me Princess Anko," she offered.

Ibiki laughed. "I could call you that anyway, without you giving me the embarrassing nickname in return. Anko-hime."

Anko grinned. "Royalty, huh? Or maybe just a really important clan member. Like Tsunade-hime."

Ibiki took her hand and squeezed it. "Well, you're my princess."

Anko shifted position and flopped down on him, snuggling. "You're so romantic, you know that? You really are."

"So you tell me," Ibiki said.

"It's true." She curled up against him and went to sleep.

He didn't have the heart to disturb her.

The truth was, he was a lot more scared about his brush with multiple personality disorder than he let on, but he didn't want her to worry. He didn't want her to worry about anything. _Least of all me._

Ibiki kissed the top of her head. Her hair was still damp from her shower.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Ibiki couldn't help but be relieved when Anko woke up several hours later, a few minutes after four in the morning. He shifted with a grunt, pulling his arm free from under Anko.

Anko stirred. "What's that sound for? Are you okay?"

Ibiki sat up against the headboard and rubbed his bicep. "My arm's numb."

"Huh, why?" Anko said sleepily.

"You slept on it," Ibiki said. His lips quirked in a smile.

"What?" Anko smacked his shoulder lightly. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"How could I have the heart to wake you when you were sleeping so peacefully?" Ibiki protested. "It made you happy."

Anko wound her arms around him and pulled him to her chest, hugging him back down to the bed with her. "Oh, Biki…I'm going to take good care of you."

Ibiki was confused by that response, but he wasn't going to argue. "Sounds good to me. When can you start?"

"Right now." Anko covered his face with kisses, acting with methodical thoroughness.

Ibiki closed his eyes. It felt nice. He'd never felt anything like this before; the warmth and softness of Anko's lips pressing against his cheek, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his chin.

He shifted to lie on his back, and Anko lay on top of him, snuggling.

"If I make you uncomfortable you need to say so, sweetie," Anko said. "That's lesson number one."

"Oh…kay." Ibiki nodded the best he could from this position. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Anko kissed his lips gently.

Then she kissed his lips again, and he felt fire ignite in his stomach, burning all the way down. He'd masturbated few and far between, but he knew the feeling.

Being a hulking mass of scar tissue charged with his nation's security was usually enough to turn him off in any situation, from a combination of pragmatism and stress. The stress by itself was enough to kill anyone's sex life. He knew that people either turned outward – comfort seeking – or they turned inward – isolation seeking. He'd always been a 'turn inward' kind of guy. That had been one reason why it was so hard for Anko to catch his attention.

Now that she'd caught his attention, he was feeling things he wasn't accustomed to having to deal with. Especially not in someone else's presence. What it boiled down to was…he was shy.

He understood everyone's philosophy of 'knowing when the right moment was', and this definitely seemed applicable. Both of them were comfortable, both in bed and with each other. Anko was on top of him. They were both probably feeling pretty warm. Warm enough to spark.

But he wasn't ready. Or, more accurately, he didn't know if he was or not. And he was terrified of making a mistake. Not that he didn't think Anko would stay in permanent relationship with him. He was pretty sure that she would. What he was afraid of messing up was the sex part.

Anko trailed a hand down his chest, beside where her head rested. "Biki…whatcha thinking?"

"I'm thinking how I don't want to hurt you," Ibiki said. He looked up at the ceiling.

She snuggled against him. He knew that she could feel his hard-on from her position, and she didn't seem to care. "You're not going to hurt me, Biki-chan."

"Says you," he retorted mildly.

Anko grinned and stretched out over him, kissing the spot underneath his jaw that she must have noticed from before.

He closed his eyes, a wave of tingling heat washing through him. For a few moments he couldn't speak. His lips parted, and a low moan emerged. "I…"

"I've done it before," Anko said helpfully. "From this position it should be a cinch."

Ibiki didn't know whether to laugh or to run. "I see." His ears burned. "That information is good to know."

Anko kissed his cheek. "I thought would be good to know."

"Yes." Ibiki wondered what else he could say. His thoughts were too scattered by the sensations coursing through his body. He didn't know if he wanted to do it now or not.

"Biki-chan, you're not ready," Anko said fondly. She nuzzled his neck. "Don't worry about it. You're cute enough to wait for."

"But – I –" Ibiki wished this weren't one of the times that she could out-think him.

Anko giggled. "I'm right, aren't I? You're not ready."

"Yes, but, I –"

"You're supposed to say things like this." Anko poked his shoulder lightly.

Ibiki flushed. "I'm not uncomfortable. I'm just – I'm –"

Anko shifted against him. "Aroused by the sexiness that is me, but unable to handle going any further." She grinned and kissed the tip of his nose, then rolled off of him.

Ibiki's heart thudded in his chest, and he immediately missed the warmth and the pressure on his half-hard erection. But he rolled over away from her, hiding his physical reactions from her.

She spooned up against his back, resting her cheek against the space between his shoulder blades. "Biki, why are you hiding?"

"Because if I don't, I'm afraid that you're going to make me orgasm in my pants."

"Sweetie." Anko squeezed his waist. "That doesn't mean you have to withdraw from me. I'll stop."

Ibiki took a deep breath, his eyes burning a little. "I'm not – I'm not ready. You're right. I don't have any business being here, doing this."

"This is your apartment," Anko said.

Ibiki sighed.

Anko stroked his back.

He tried to resist for a moment, before he caught himself. _What am I trying to run away for? She's right. I don't have to hide._ Pain burst forth. He abruptly rolled over and hid his face against her shoulder, holding her tightly. "I'm scared. I'm scared that you won't like my body anymore if you see me."

"Biki…" Anko stroked his back.

"It works well enough for me as a ninja," Ibiki said. "I'm not saying that. But my body…it's nothing anybody should be required to touch." He hated this insecurity, deeply hated it, but he was frightened, and mortified, and it was hard to think when all he wanted was for her to not leave.

Anko kissed the top of his head.

Ibiki flinched, belatedly aware that he was bare-headed.

She hugged him tightly, not missing the flinch. "I will touch every part of you, and every part of you will receive equal love. I am not repulsed by any part of you. I've seen much, much worse, and none of it belonged to someone as sweet as you. I think I'm more than capable of handling you." She planted kisses on his scarred head and rubbed his back.

Ibiki let go of his tension, breathing shakily. "I was so used to…" He paused. But he'd admitted so much else to her. "When people look at my body…I don't like medical check-ups." He muttered against her shoulder, "They don't see me. They see my injuries. And it's hard to be objectified that way."

He trailed off for a few long moments. Then he mentally shook himself and forced himself to keep going. "But I don't have any choice but to go. You know there are no exceptions to physical assessments every six months. I'd be suspended if I didn't go, and my job is everything to me. So I have to let them…touch. Inspect. And I…" He couldn't go any further. Talking about it was too difficult.

"You're afraid I'll look at you like they do," Anko said softly. "Like the medical ninjas. You don't want to see that look in my eyes."

Ibiki nodded. "Yeah."

"That's why you won't let me look at your hands," Anko said.

Ibiki paused. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Yeah."

Anko kissed the top of his head. "It's understandable. You'd never be able to trust me again if I did that to you. If I got lost in your injuries instead of seeing you, that would really hurt you. You don't want to risk that."

He was reminded of what it meant to be dating another interrogator.

"If we have to, we'll blindfold me when you want to have sex," Anko said. "If it makes you comfortable, we'll do it that way." She trailed a hand over his back, stroking.

Ibiki was bewildered. He shifted, pulling back so that he could examine her face in the dim light. "You'd what? Are you sure that wouldn't just be making you uncomfortable instead?"

Anko grinned. "I've thought about doing things kinkier. A little blindfolding isn't going to bother me."

Ibiki flushed. "What was I thinking?" he teased. "Of course it's no big deal."

Anko laughed. "Exactly." She touched their noses together, and everything was okay again. She snuggled up against his chest and settled down.

Ibiki was more than happy to let her fall asleep against him in this much more comfortable position, even knowing they had to get up in a few hours. He didn't want this special, private world they were building for themselves to disappear. He was going to hang onto every moment as long as possible.

He tucked his head against hers and fell asleep.

**xXx**

Work was work.

He was glad that Anko popped in and out of his office to brighten his day, and that he had something to look forward to after work besides a headache and a frozen dinner. He was beginning to wonder how he had coped with such emptiness.

But he simply hadn't felt as though he was entitled to anything more than that. Not until Anko had started making him do something with himself. He'd been a machine, performing maintenance on himself for the sake of the village, knowing he would be hard to replace if he broke. He'd viewed that as his purpose in life: filling this role that no one else seemed to want. Someone had to be the garbage man, or the butcher, or the head of Torture and Interrogation. If he didn't perform this role, Konoha wouldn't run.

As true as that was, he was glad to live for himself now. Himself and Anko.

Anko chose that moment to sidle into his office. "Hiya, Biki."

"Did you sneeze on the way over here?" Ibiki teased.

Anko looked confused. "No, why?"

Ibiki grinned. "Because I was thinking about you."

Anko giggled. "Aww. I was thinking about you, too." She grinned and raised her eyebrows. "Religiously."

"I should have been sneezing my head off," Ibiki said in mock surprise. "I guess it is just a wives tale."

Anko wagged an index finger. "Or, we're just lucky that we don't have allergies."

"You could look at it that way," Ibiki said agreeably.

Anko beamed. "So what's up?"

Ibiki glanced at the half finished stack of paperwork on his desk. "Nothing much. Just the usual. Tonbo's doing better, by the way. Sleep really improves his sentence structure. I don't have to read run-on sentences with too many clauses and passive language anymore. Good tip."

"No problem." Anko glowed.

"Where do you want to go for our third date?" Ibiki asked. "It's your turn to pick."

"It's our fourth date," Anko said.

Ibiki made a face. "Really? I don't count what happened last night as a date."

"No, I'm counting it," Anko protested.

"Why?" Ibiki asked.

"Because!"

"You just want to get into my pants as soon as possible," Ibiki said.

"Nuh-uh!" Anko paused. "Well, yeah, but also, I thought it was a great third date. I wanna count it for that, not just so I can fill out my score card."

Ibiki choked. "Score card?"

Anko raised her hands. "Figurative. It's figurative."

Ibiki marginally relaxed.

"And I want to go to the movies again," Anko said, finally answering his question.

"But it's too soon for anything new," Ibiki said.

"I know," Anko said. She hopped up on his desk, sitting on it. "I want to see that kung fu film again. That was cool!" She threw a punch and made a fake sound effect noise.

Ibiki was bemused. "Okay. I don't have any problems with that. What do you want for dinner?"

"Sushi!" Anko grinned. "I want a change of pace."

"Ah…" Ibiki wondered where they would go. It was about time they ate somewhere else for a date, but he didn't know any sushi places. "As long as you know where to go. I sure as hell don't."

"Don't worry," Anko said. "I've got a place all picked out. You'll like it there."

"I like everywhere I am when I'm with you," Ibiki said honestly.

Anko clasped her hands to her chest. "Squee! Romantic…"

Ibiki had to laugh at the fact that she had exclaimed 'squee' instead of actually making the noise.

Anko swung her legs over his desk and neatly plopped herself onto his lap, snuggling up against him. She knocked over his stack of paperwork and the black plastic tray labeled 'Outbox' in the process, sending copies of reports meant for the Hokage's office flying. The tray clattered to the hard cement floor upside down.

Ibiki couldn't bring himself to care.

Anko kissed him on the cheek, and he returned with a kiss to her lips, almost smiling too much to make it work. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gently squeezed. "Thank you for making work more interesting," he said softly.

Anko rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you." She let out a contented sigh.

"I love you, too." Ibiki smirked. "Now, are you going to pick up my tray and put my desk to rights?"

"Nuh-uh."

Ibiki laughed again. "Then I'll just have to punish you."

"Gasp," Anko said. She gave him a wide-eyed look. "How are you going to punish me? Are you going to give me spanking? I could brace myself against the desk right here. Got something we can use for a paddle in your desk? How about a clipboard?"

Ibiki flushed bright red. The fact that his body was responding to that suggestion only made it worse. Especially since Anko was sitting in his lap and could undoubtedly feel his half-formed erection. "I am not going to give you an erotic spanking in my office." _God, I can't believe I have to say that._

"Awww." Anko crawled off his lap and picked everything up, straightening up his desk. She looked at him with a repentant pout. "Is that better, Biki-chan?"

"Yes," Ibiki mumbled.

Anko twisted a lock of hair around her finger and smiled hopefully. "Now will you give me a spanking?"

Ibiki opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

"Oh, poor Biki." Anko took pity on him. She crossed over to him and kissed his cheek. "I'll stop."

Ibiki averted his eyes. He wasn't sure he could look at her without feeling embarrassed. "I know you're just joking. I –"

"I'm not joking," Anko said matter-of-factly.

Ibiki stared at her.

Anko tilted her head. "You're into that. And I'm curious about what it's like. It's not like I haven't fantasized about it. So we'll try it sometime."

Ibiki looked away shiftily and barely managed to nod. As soon as he could unstick his jaw, he managed to say, "But not here."

Anko giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. "Sweet Biki. Of course we won't. You'd hate the unprofessionalism. This office space is for work."

Ibiki let out his breath, relieved that she understood.

Anko gave him one last squeeze and let go, straightening. "So I'll get back to work." She turned towards the door and took a couple steps, then glanced at him with a seductive smile. "And remember: sushi and a movie."

Ibiki nodded. "Yes."

"Ja ne." Anko slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Ibiki stared down at his paperwork blankly and then held his head in his hands. _I can't believe she – is she really going to – I shouldn't be thinking about this. _

One thing Anko couldn't pick up for him was his scattered wits.

**xXx**

The rest of the day went surprisingly fast. Ibiki did a double take at the clock when he realized it was time to go. _Anko will be tempted to come get me._ He hurried up and put all the classified documents away for the day.

Then he hurried to the station where they clocked in and out. Anko was waiting for him there.

"We have to stop by my apartment," Anko said. She seemed the slightest bit antsy and nervous at the declaration.

"Oh? Why?" Ibiki raised an eyebrow.

"I just need to grab some things." Anko grinned. "You know, like toiletries and stuff. You want me to start sleeping over at your place, don't you, Biki?"  
Ibiki nodded slowly. He had, in fact, been thinking about that, but he didn't know how she knew. He hadn't mentioned it to her.

"Then I need to grab some clothes and stuff."

"Sounds fine to me," Ibiki said.

They rode the elevator up together, went through the usual security checkpoints, and hit the street.

"You know, I don't actually know where you live," Ibiki commented.

Anko shot him another nervous smile. "It changes every three months. That's the longest I can get an apartment owner to stick with me."

Ibiki was surprised.

"It's not like I'm hard on the building or anything," Anko said quickly. "It's just that –" She shrugged.

Ibiki felt terrible for her. She didn't have to finish her sentence. It was her reputation. He, by contrast, was largely left alone, because he'd had the apartment where he lived since before his accident. Everyone knew him there, and they were used to him. They'd hardly reacted at all to his ever-growing collection of scars. He didn't bother them, and they didn't bother him. It helped that his apartment was part of the old shinobi housing built after the Third World War, and it hadn't been damaged in any of the upheavals that had shaken Konoha since then.

**xXx**

Anko's apartment building was bright white, one of the buildings constructed after Sand's failed invasion. It had only been around for about nine months. Anko used a security card to get into the building, and ushered him up to the second floor, using a back staircase instead of the elevator. She scurried down the hall, glancing at one of the other doors – number eight, Ibiki noticed automatically – and pulled out her keys when she reached a bleached white door that had the brass number '14' screwed onto it.

The key was still new enough to stick slightly in the lock. Anko struggled for a moment, then managed to twist the key. The door unlocked with a reluctant rasp of tumblers.

"Come in," Anko said, waving him inside and then ducking into the kitchen. "Make yourself at home, Biki. It's fine. I promise."

Her apartment was very much unlike her. Peering around, Ibiki could see the bright whiteness of the kitchen counters and the off-white of the appliances, the white and gray linoleum floor, the sparseness. The kitchen was lit by florescent lights, and the small dining area by an electric chandelier. The only thing of color in the kitchen was a houseplant with variegated leaves, sitting in a terra cotta pot. It seemed an odd touch. Also, the edges of all the leaves were brown.

Ibiki poked at the houseplant sitting on her kitchen counter. "Um, Anko, your plant is dying."

Anko grimaced. "I know. It's going downhill fast. They all do that." She looked at the plant sadly. "They keep giving them to me – they think it'll teach me to be more nurturing." She shrugged guiltily. "I'm just not into plants like that. Or pets."

Ibiki blinked. "I think you're nurturing. Not having an interest in plants or pets doesn't mean you're not nurturing. It means you're not interested."

Anko gave him a grateful smile. "I had a cat, but it ran away after two weeks. I guess he didn't like this place about as much as I don't."

Ibiki slipped his hands into his pockets. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I couldn't take care of a pet."

She crossed the space between them in a single quickstep and kissed him. "I'll be right back."

Ibiki smiled.

Anko disappeared into the bedroom and came back out a few minutes later with a duffel bag packed. "Okay. We're ready to go. I've got all I need, Biki."

Ibiki could tell from her demeanor and the sterile quality of the apartment that Anko was speaking literally, not figuratively. There was very little else in this apartment to take. Anko clearly didn't like living in it.

He voiced his thoughts when they were walking down the street, away from the apartment building. "You don't have much use for that place, do you?"

"I like your place, Biki," Anko said. She smiled fondly. "It smells like you all over."

"Smells like me?" Ibiki flushed slightly. He couldn't imagine what she meant. Or if that was a good thing.

"Mm-hmm." Anko nodded. "I like smells, and I like your smell." She leaned over and inhaled slightly, and her smile grew. "Like brown sugar and cinnamon and…mm. Something savory." She thought for a moment. "Chicken broth."

Now he knew he was blushing. "Brown sugar and cinnamon and chicken broth?"

"It's faint but it's there," Anko said, nodding. "Sweet and savory. That's how I like it."

Ibiki didn't think he could have anything to say to that. "Ah."

"It's nicer there, too, because of your furniture," Anko said. "It's all lived in. Soft edges and soft lights and sagging sofas." She made a face. "My place smells like plastic and all the furniture is stiff."

Ibiki slipped an arm around her protectively, an instinctive gesture against the pain and loneliness that underscored her observations. "Well, you are welcome at my place. I want you there."

She snuggled against him, tucking his open coat around her.

Ibiki liked the intimacy of that, of her nestling against his chest in the warmth of his coat as they walked, feeling her unusually close.

They stopped by his apartment so he could take his evening medication and she could drop off her duffel bag in his bedroom. First she dumped it in the middle of the floor, but when he almost tripped over it she moved it to the side of the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

The sushi restaurant was a bright, happy sort of place frequented by the younger people. Ibiki should have known that it would be like that; Anko picked it. The restaurant was decorated with photographs of artfully arranged sushi, big, square pictures on semi-translucent white glass lit up from the back side. The booths were all honey-blonde wood, and the restaurant workers cheerfully prepared sushi in full view of the customers, rolling and chopping and garnishing inside of a central booth lined with clean white counters.

Ibiki knew logically this was the kind of place that should make him feel out of place and unwelcome. Somehow, with Anko's hand to hold onto and squeeze, he was alright. He felt oddly at peace, even though it was brightly lit and happy and bustling with people who probably knew him as That Scary Chunin Exam Proctor.

He chuckled to himself. _They probably know Anko only as That Feisty Chunin Exam Lady. We're even. _

"What're you laughing at?" Anko glanced at him, narrowing her eyes in playful suspicion.

"Youth," Ibiki explained. He gestured vaguely with the hand not holding onto Anko's. "Just youth. They're all so young and fresh-faced, and they haven't really begun to live yet."

Anko led him to a seat in the center section, right behind the sushi preparation booth. Ibiki could tell it was the back of the booth because bins of product and supplies were stacked in the way of the view. Ibiki didn't mind; it was like having a little extra privacy. He sat down and relaxed against the bench seat. With Anko across from him, he didn't have to worry about anything.

No one seemed to notice them, anyway; every little group was absorbed in themselves, their senses not ranging beyond the table they sat at with their friends, family, or co-workers. Possibly, like him and Anko, their date.

"This is the society we created," Ibiki continued, glancing around the restaurant with a small smile. "I'm glad. We worked hard to make this situation possible: for students to graduate as twelve-year-olds, for training not to be so brutal, for there to be families and hope and good things in life. Even if I'm part of the underbelly of this society, I'm glad I help keep it clean. It's important to me; someone ought to enjoy the fruits of my labor."

"I never thought of it that way," Anko said quietly, looking humbled. "I get so wrapped up in my own ways. To be honest with you, if I didn't have fun, I wouldn't care either way whether someone else was suffering. I did my own suffering. It's time for me and others like me to have fun. We deserve some of the good things we helped bring about."

"And that's valid, too," Ibiki said, gazing across the table at her with affection. "You've helped me see that. I am entitled to a tiny piece of the results of my hard labor. I should be able to go to a place like this and enjoy myself. I am free; I am free to do as I please, after all. I am not a caged bird who lives in the underground of the Intelligence Division. I only work there. And that ought to be good enough for anybody. I don't have to be there. I could take my retirement money and leave now. Leave today. But I won't, because I love my country. And I know that nobody could replace me. Not right away. So I would be leaving a major hole in our defenses. That's enough to make me want to stay." He gestured. "But I get to be out here, too, and that's important."

Anko smiled at him, a small, proud, almost motherly smile. "I love you, Biki."

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I love you, too. Anko-hime. You're my apricot princess."

Anko flushed terribly, drowning her delicate complexion in a sea of mottled red.

Ibiki laughed. "You're cute when you do that."

Anko pouted, but she didn't let go of his hand, and she didn't get annoyed.

After a few minutes, both of them collected themselves, and availed themselves of the laminated menus waiting in a clear plastic stand on the table.

"What do you think of number seventeen?" Ibiki asked.

"Hmm?"

"The Konoha Roll?"

"It's okay but it's nothing special. It's more for tourists than us."

"Oh."

Anko looked up at him hastily, lowering her menu. "I didn't mean you shouldn't get it if you want. It's tasty. It's just cooked, and I don't like cooked sushi as much as I like the raw. The raw stuff tastes better. At least to me."

Ibiki smiled at her. "I think I'll try baked sushi and raw sushi this time around. I haven't had much of either in many years, and I think I miss them both."

"Go for it!" Anko looked anxious that he take her encouragement seriously.

"I will." Ibiki pulled out a waiting sushi card from a dispenser, along with a little pencil, and marked down one Konoha Roll on his order.

Anko relaxed, relieved. "I really didn't want to mess things up for you by swaying your opinion. I'm bad like that. Some people say I come on too strong; about everything."

"I'm not like that," Ibiki said, amused. "You can't come on too strong. You can only come on strong enough. I'm a thickheaded sort of person, and if you weren't so ballsy and out there all the time, asking to do this and do that and getting in my face, I wouldn't notice you at all. You saw how hard you had to work just to get my attention that first time, in the break room." Had that really happened earlier this week? Ibiki felt like he had been dating Anko for ages; and he loved it. He wondered why he hadn't done it before, and what he had been doing with his life. Clearly, nothing. Anko fit into the waiting slot he'd apparently had open, alleviating his emptiness and giving his life purpose again. Beyond being the interrogator, the T&I specialist, the boss. Those were all good roles, and necessary, but nothing felt like this.

Ibiki took in a deep breath, smelling fried sushi and the sweetness of properly prepared sashimi. It felt great; being out here and about and accompanied by a sweet, beautiful young woman who loved him to bits. He felt amazing.

Never again would he question why Kakashi read Icha Icha. He thought at least part of the plots must be like this – and everybody needed some of this in their lives, even if it was just fantasy, like a story in a book.

While they decided what to eat, Ibiki let his mind drift back to his visit to Anko's apartment complex. She had scurried down the hall hurriedly, as if she wasn't welcome there. And there was a particular door she seemed afraid of or upset about. Nervous.

"So, what's in number eight?" Ibiki asked casually.

Anko checked the menu.

Ibiki snorted and rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, the apartment."

Anko jerked, her back straightening. Surprise turned to dismay. She grimaced at him and leaned forward, hissing across the table, "An old lady. She hates me."

Ibiki was bemused by the idea of Anko being afraid of an old woman. "A Baa-chan? What's so scary about a Baa-chan?"

Anko shook her head decisively. "This ain't no Baa-chan, Ibiki. This is an Obaasama." She nodded, wide-eyed. "Take it from me. You do not want to cross that old lady."

"Why is she so hard on you?" Ibiki asked.

Anko's voice lowered to that furtive hiss again. Amazingly, her cheeks were tinged with embarrassment. "She thinks I don't wear a bra."

Ibiki started laughing and had to stop himself or choke. Her answer had taken him by such surprise that he inhaled wrong on his own spit. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and tried to wipe his smile away with one gloved hand. "I'm sorry."

"I can't stand her!" Anko squirmed. "She always thinks I've done something wrong! Why doesn't she mind her own business?" Her protest was almost a wail.

Ibiki saw how easily tortured Anko had been by this woman. "It's alright," he said soothingly. "You're moving in with me now, and that means you can get away from her. For good. Forever. I promise you'll never have to see her again – not unless she commits a crime. In which case, I'll let you take the first crack at her."

Anko grinned her sadistic I'm-getting-out-my-dentistry-tools smile, and she giggled.

Ibiki was glad to have cheered her up. Nasty old ladies shouldn't be able to get his Anko down.

Suddenly, something caught Anko's attention, and she just about bolted out of her seat. Ibiki looked around quickly and found nothing threatening or ominous. But someone new was threading his way through the busy restaurant.

"Oh! Iruka! Over here!" Anko waved her hand wildly, squirming in her seat. "Ruka-chan!"

Iruka looked around wildly until he saw her. Then his mouth fell open, and he pointed at her. "Anko-san!" He waved, smiling. "Hello!"

A girl emerged by Iruka's side, stepping out of the way of another customer.

"Pink-Hair!" Anko yelled immediately.

Sakura looked around. "Who, me?"

Iruka laid a hand on Sakura's shoulder and was already herding Sakura gently towards Anko and Ibiki's table.

"Yeah, you," Anko said. "How many people have pink hair?"

Sakura blushed. "What? What do you want?"

She and Iruka came to stand at Anko's side of the booth.

"I saw you at the Chunin Exam. You were on the team with that brave idiot," Anko said. "Right, right? Weren't you?" She grinned. "I never forget a face. Especially not one with pink hair."

Sakura looked embarrassed. "Yeah…" She looked up at Iruka.

"Oh!" Iruka placed a hand on Sakura's shoulder again. "Anko-san, this is Haruno Sakura."

"Ah, yeah!" Anko beamed. "That's right, that's your name." Then it visibly processed. "Oh, wait…Aren't you Tsunade's new apprentice or something?"

Sakura straightened proudly. "Yeah."

"Cool. That makes us like sisters or something," Anko said.

"Sisters?" Sakura tilted her head in confusion.

Anko studied her fingernails casually. "Cause, you know, I was trained by another Sannin…"

"Jiraiya?" Sakura guessed.

Ibiki wondered if he should say anything. This was kind of painful.

"Nah…" Anko glanced away. "The snakey one."

Sakura's jaw dropped. "You were trained by Orochimaru? I didn't know he had any students at all!"

"Yeah…it was kind of before the whole…evil experiments thing came to light." Anko coughed. "You know…when he was supposed to be one of the good guys." She added quickly, "I didn't know anything about those experiments. He kept it on the down-low. I swear. I was like, ten. Nine. Nine and a half."

Sakura nodded slowly. "I don't think you'd still be in the village if you had anything to do with it, would you? I mean, Sandaime exiled Orochimaru and the people that were involved. The body suppliers and stuff, who knew they were working with Orochimaru to refine forbidden jutsu."

Anko relaxed and beamed up at Iruka. "What a bright student you've got."

Iruka blushed. "W-Well, she's really more like Tsunade-sama's student now, I've taught her all I know how to give." He squeezed Sakura's shoulder. "But yes. I am very proud of her."

"Isn't he handsome?" Anko said to Sakura. "Especially when he's blushing."

Iruka flushed deeper.

"I'm thirteen," Sakura said.

"So…what?" Anko looked from Sakura to Iruka. "Does that mean he's not handsome?"

Iruka held up his hands hastily. "Sakura-chan likes someone else, Anko-san."

"Oh." Anko looked disappointed. "You need a date, Ruka-chan."

Iruka covered his face with one hand and groaned. "That's enough…" He bowed. "We'll talk to you later, Anko-san."

"Okay," Anko agreed brightly.

Iruka led Sakura to a table across the restaurant.

Anko turned to Ibiki. "They make a nice couple, don't you think?"

"You're hopeless," Ibiki said. "Stop badgering the poor man."

"He's young, attractive, and single," Anko said. "Not to mention sweet and good-hearted and brave…he needs to be taken off the market. Otherwise all the girls and boys of Konoha are going to be salivating after him forever. The suspense is worse than the conclusion, believe me, Biki. People want to know."

Ibiki held up his hands. "Hey. I am not going to gossip with you. I don't know enough to dispute your facts."

Anko grinned. "Then allow me to gossip at you."

Ibiki gestured graciously. "Be my guest."

Anko filled his ears with chatter for the rest of the meal, not pausing even when the waitress came to serve them their order. She dug into her spicy salmon roll without missing a beat, gesticulating with her chopsticks. "And then Raidou said that Genma sucks on his senbon because he's trying to kick his nicotine habit, because he and Asuma were on a team a while ago in a stressful situation, and he addicted Genma to cigarettes. Izumo said that Genma just has an oral fixation, and he could prove it, and that's when things got really interesting." She bounced in her seat and smiled brightly at him. "By the way, Biki, does this meal have any space for dango? Because I really want some dango."

"Does this place make dango?" Ibiki asked, startled.

"Yes," Anko said. "Yep. Uh-huh."

Ibiki smiled at her fondly. "Then get yourself some. I'm not concerned about meal space, or budgets, or anything like that. I just want you to be happy."

Anko melted. "Aww…Biki…" And then she had to take a napkin and dab her eyes, because she started crying. Tears silently welled up in the corners of her eyes. Ibiki watched them soak through the flimsy napkin, leaving dark, translucent splotches as they appeared against the crisp whiteness.

Ibiki was struck by the sight, and very, very glad that she was crying because of a good thing. He thought if he had to watch her cry about something bad, his heart would break.

**xXx**

They ended up back at his place, on his bed. He lay on his back, his head nestled on her lap, cushioned by a pillow. Anko sat up against his headboard, cross-legged and smiling down at him.

"We should do this every night," Anko said. "I like it."

"I'm not complaining," Ibiki said. He smiled up at her.

They both let the moment lapse into silence for a few moments, enjoying each other. Ibiki never thought he would experience domestic bliss, but this was definitely it. He drank it in desperately, even if outside he wanted to remain nonchalant.

The bill at the sushi place had been funnily high, and Ibiki found himself funnily able to afford it, after years of doing nothing but depositing the bulk of his paychecks in the bank.

Being the Head of T&I was definitely not most people's measure of success, but it paid well. He was the highest-paid ninja outside of ANBU, and he'd known that for years. It hadn't fazed him and hadn't colored his opinion one way or the other; it had merely meant he had more money in the bank than most that he didn't touch. Even if he quit now, he would never be hurting for money, especially since all of his medical bills were covered under job-related compensation. All his medical problems came from the field in one way or another; including, of course, his torture.

"How did this happen?" Anko asked. She ran her fingertips over his scalp, barely brushing his healed injuries.

"I thought I told you," Ibiki said mildly.

"Uh-uh," Anko said. "We got off topic. It was my fault, but still…" She caressed one of his scars, tracing it down to his left eyebrow. "And I mean these." She brushed the edge of one of the circular indentations.

Ibiki squirmed slightly. "That tickles," he informed her.

She withdrew her fingers.

Ibiki settled back down. "And in answer to your question, they are trepanning holes, left over from a trephine."

"A trephine?" Anko asked quietly.

"A trephine is a surgical instrument," Ibiki said. "It has a circular blade. Ah, excuse me, cylindrical, is what I meant. With little teeth on it, like a saw. That's what it is, really. A bone saw designed to cut through someone's skull."

Anko fell silent. She appeared to be thinking.

Ibiki watched her carefully.

"Trepanning is…cutting into someone's skull?" Anko asked.

"Trepanning is the medical process of creating a hole in someone's skull," Ibiki said. He nodded.

"Medical process," Anko said blankly. "How can this be medical?" She stroked his head. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Well, it's a little outdated," Ibiki said. He could remain calm as long as they talked in abstract terms. Impersonal. "Trepanning dates back to the ancient times, when people were first learning medicine. The idea was to let out the illness or the pain through a hole. You know, when people say they wish they could just get the headache out and make it leave? That's what trepanning was for."

"What did they use trepanning for?" Anko asked.

Ibiki didn't have to ask who 'they' were. "Trepanning has also been used in the past to treat mental illness. Though it was surely intended as torture, the inspiration came from past medical practices."

"That's sick," Anko said immediately. "I'd like to drill a hole in their heads and see how they like it."

Ibiki shifted and pulled her down with him, cradling her in his arms. "Anko-chan, it's nothing to get angry over."

"Of course it is!" Anko stopped short and looked at Ibiki with wide-eyed horror. "You mean this is the first time you've seen someone get angry over it? No one's ever gotten angry about it before?"

Ibiki looked at her helplessly. He didn't know what to say. "Of course not. Why should anyone get angry over it? It's a normal risk in the field, to be captured by the enemy and tortured. How could anyone be angry when it's expected of me to survive with my honor intact or die if I think I'm going to give up any information? It's normal. It's nothing out of the ordinary…"

Anko looked like she was going to cry in the bad way.

Ibiki's heart plummeted. "Don't cry." He stroked her cheek. "Please don't cry unless I'm being romantic. I couldn't stand for you to be in pain."

"I'm not going to cry and it is romantic," Anko whimpered, her lower lip wobbling. "You are the bravest, bravest man I've ever met, and you're selfless too, and you're wonderful, and I –" She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tightly. "I love you!"

"I love you too," Ibiki said, bewildered. He rubbed her back, tentatively relieved that she wasn't going to cry about him for the sake of sympathy over his torture. He didn't know how he would handle that. He'd never faced it before. The sympathy he'd gotten had been professional and quickly gotten over with. Not at all the same thing as the thing Anko was offering him. He didn't think he was ready for it. He didn't know if he'd ever be. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Anko protested, but with a note of distress in her voice. "I want you to be happy, too. Biki – I want you to be the happiest man alive! Do you think you can do that for me?"

Ibiki felt out of his depth, but he thought back on this past week. "I think I can, as long as you stay with me," he answered honestly, hoping that was good enough.

Anko started laughing and crying at the same time, she used his oversized black t-shirt – that she was wearing again, just like she said she would – in order to wipe away the tears, sitting up. "I'm crying in the romantic way."

Ibiki was relieved. Enormously relieved. He let out the breath he'd been holding and smiled up at her. "Then I'm alright." He reached up and stroked her arm, seeking out contact with her again. He knew that Anko sitting up was a temporary thing, but even when they were moments apart he craved her touch, the feeling of her solidity and warmth against him.

He realized he was growing needy, and he didn't want to do anything about it. Anko wasn't going anywhere, so why should he be worried at his need for physical affection? She would always be here, and she needed to get her fill as well. Her initial declaration that she wanted to approach him for the snuggles was more truthful than he'd thought. And he needed the same thing, too.

When she was finished drying her tears, Ibiki gently pulled her down to him. "Anko-hime…I am always going to be here. No one can destroy me. They tried. I can beat anything."

He kissed her gently, and when she kissed back, he felt fire kindle within him.

"Mm, Biki," she moaned.

"Not yet," he teased.

Anko pouted at him.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Good night, sweet princess."

"Good night, Prince Biki," Anko said, grinning.

Ibiki cringed. "Don't."

It was Anko's turn to chuckle. She kissed him on the cheek. "Night."

"Good night." Ibiki rolled onto his side and paused. "Do you think you could get the light?"

Anko rolled away from him and stretched out a hand. "Got it!"

Blessed darkness.

Ibiki fell asleep quickly, lulled by the darkness and the warmth and the smell of Anko's conditioner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Ibiki woke up to Anko snuggled against him, her head tucked under his chin. He wanted to go back to sleep. A glance at the clock told him they didn't have time. He internally pouted. Then he shifted and kissed her forehead. "Anko-hime…good morning. It's time to get up."

Anko didn't answer. She snuggled against him and clung on tightly.

"Oh…" Ibiki sighed and stroked her hair, the back of her neck. "I know. We have to, though."

This time, Anko mumbled a fervent, "No," and squirmed against him, as if luxuriating in his body heat.

That had an unexpected effect on him, and he had to get up first to keep from getting a hard-on. A surge of heat stiffened his nipples and made his stomach ache with want. He turned away from the bed and took a couple deep breaths. "I'm going to bathroom to get ready for work," Ibiki said mildly.

Then he crossed the bedroom, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. His pulse raced faintly in his throat. _Okay…what was that?_ That had never happened before. Anko's body had rubbed against him in just the right way, he decided. Nothing more than that.

He retrieved his dentures and fitted them in, then shaved. By the time he was done with his normal routine, he felt better again.

Anko made omelets for them, and they headed to the office.

**xXx**

The first hour of the morning passed in peace. Anko went to interrogate a witness, not a criminal but a housewife who might have seen a crime commissioned in the alley behind her home. Soft work. Sometimes it happened.

Ibiki was filing his finished paperwork for the Hokage, minding his own business, when he felt a familiar chakra approaching. _No. Please, no._

His pleas were ignored. Yamanaka Inoichi entered his office, bearing a sheaf of reports from upstairs.

"So, I hear the dating is going well," Inoichi said.

"From who?" Ibiki demanded.

Inoichi laughed. "A good spy never reveals his sources." He flipped the papers onto Ibiki's desk. "Also, if you don't want someone to know you're dating, don't pick the hottest sushi place in the village."

Ibiki flushed. "It was her idea," he mumbled defensively. He wished he hadn't.

"She makes you happy," Inoichi said.

Ibiki wanted to do better than last time. Maybe if he answered directly in as few words as possible the man would go away faster. "Very."

"Where is your relationship going?" Inoichi asked. "Have you talked about the future yet?"

"No." Ibiki watched Inoichi warily. It was amazing how Inoichi could ask such questions with a pleasant demeanor, as if the man truly was a benevolent presence.

"Ah. I guess it is a little early." Inoichi looked at Ibiki innocently. "Let me know if you need any help."

"You know, you don't have to deliver these in person," Ibiki said, sliding the report towards him and glancing at it.

"I know." Inoichi shrugged cheerfully. "But I like to be a little more personal in the way I handle things."

_I've noticed. _Ibiki didn't dare say that for fear it might start…a conversation. Then he remembered he had a question to ask. "Saying 'I love you' is normal, isn't it?"

Inoichi looked at him in astonishment for a moment. Then, slowly, the man smiled. "Yes."

"That's all." Ibiki looked down at the report to avoid making eye contact. "You're dismissed."

"Yes, Taichou." Inoichi gave one of his infuriatingly perky salutes and let himself out.

Inoichi reminded him of something he really didn't want to think about. What was the future? Ibiki knew he'd promised that he would have sex with Anko after this date. He knew that he should, just to get it over with and soothe her insecurities. For whatever reason, she wanted to do this so badly that she was in danger of cracking if he didn't give her what she needed. He just didn't know why she needed to have sex with him.

And if he were honest, he'd admit that he wasn't ready. He was scared, and all kinds of things he never thought he would be again. He hadn't been touched since he'd been tortured. Anko was the first. His first attempt to let somebody in, his first attempt to let somebody care, his first person he was willing to care about besides Idate.

He'd forgotten was it was like to be afraid you'd let someone down.

It wasn't a good feeling.

**xXx**

Anko returned from interrogating the housewife; she hadn't collected much information, but enough when pooled with three other witnesses. Ibiki called Tonbo in and set him to work coordinating with the village guards in order to pick up the thief who had been burglarizing homes in the Tahashi neighborhood. It was a comfortably middle class neighborhood with a lot of children, and Ibiki was more concerned about the children than anyone else. Having things stolen and strangers intruding on one's space was very traumatic for children.

Once Tonbo was off on his task, Ibiki was left with Anko.

"So what's the next mission?" Anko asked.

Ibiki checked his docket. "Ah…someone needs to interrogate a store clerk who has apparently seen a missing nin. We need a sketch artist to go with you to confirm that."

Anko saluted. "Right." Then her demeanor softened. "Biki…"

"Hmm?" Ibiki had started reading the first of the reports Inoichi left him.

"You okay?" Anko asked.

Ibiki didn't know what prompted that question. _I can't be showing my insecurity on my face, can I?_ He tried to rein in his chakra, if it was fluctuating. He couldn't feel that it was, but he made sure anyway.

"Just thinking about our date," Ibiki said.

"I know," Anko sighed. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I want work to be done with already, too. I want to go back to your place and snuggle, and pick out a place to eat with you, and relax…" She pouted. "I hate Fridays. They're just teasers for Saturdays."

"Can we go somewhere quiet tonight?" Ibiki asked.

Anko looked confused and surprised. "Sure, Biki. It's your turn to pick anyway."

Ibiki nodded and lowered his head, going back to reading the report Inoichi left him. His pencil dangled loosely between his fingertips. When it came to Inoichi's report, he scribbled on it in the margins. It took some time and skill to connect the information gathered upstairs by Inoichi's staff with the work they were doing downstairs. And he needed to pinpoint any holes in their web of information and fill them, quickly. They couldn't afford to have a blind spot. The security of Konoha was in their hands. For that matter, the security of the entire nation. And Fire was a big nation.

He looked up at the feeling of a warm hand on his.

Anko looked at him with concern. "What's the matter, Biki?"

Ibiki's eyes widened. _Am I that transparent to her?_ Then he looked away quickly. His gaze automatically went to the clock on his wall. "Nothing."

Anko's hand caressed his through the leather glove. "Long day at work?"

Ibiki didn't know what to say. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her. _Is this what I've come to? Being completely vulnerable whenever she comes around?_ Being alive hurt. He'd forgotten that. Forgotten how much being invested in someone was scary. Forgotten how to handle the ups and downs.

"Yeah, maybe," he said vaguely.

Anko came around the desk and sat in his lap sideways, leaning against his chest and winding her arms around his neck. "Wanna tell me about it, Biki?"

She looked at him with those big, vulnerable eyes, and Ibiki couldn't say anything to hurt her. "Just nervous," he said gently.

Anko tucked her head underneath his chin. "'Bout what?"

"'Bout us," he said, mimicking her pronunciation. "Inoichi came in, and he…well, he's a jerk."

"He's nice!" Anko protested.

"Maybe to you," Ibiki said. "He's pushy and terrible and smirking to me."

"You're just suspicious." Anko snuggled him, nuzzling his neck.

He found it very hard to think. His cheeks heated up a little bit, and he felt warmer throughout his whole body, as if Anko were miso soup. "Well…"

"Tell me," Anko said gently. "Tell me what he said to make you so spooked, Biki-biki."

Ibiki sighed. "He said that…He asked what…He asked what we were doing in the future. Or something." He couldn't remember now. He'd spent the last four hours worrying about whether or not he would have sex with Anko tonight, or if he would let her down.

"Inoichi's just a romantic," Anko said, stroking his jaw.

Ibiki tilted his head and leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. "A romantic? Is that all?"

"He wants us to get married, and have lots of little Biki and Anko clones running around." Anko sounded amused. She giggled. "No one's told him yet we don't have children in our futures."

"Well, someone ought to tell him," Ibiki retorted.

"Really? I think it's none of his business," Anko teased.

"Everything is Yamanaka's business," Ibiki said.

That was so literally true that Anko didn't have a response; she just kept stroking his jaw. He liked that feeling. He didn't want her to stop.

_What was I worried about?_ Ibiki asked himself. He was puzzled. _Whenever Anko's here, I feel great. _

Eventually, he gently pushed her off his lap. "Back to work, you."

Anko grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

He met her lips gently with his own, and stroked her shoulder. Everything was okay again.

As he watched her leave, Ibiki hoped it would stay that way. He didn't like his equilibrium being sensitive.

**xXx**

After work, they went back to his apartment as usual. Anko seemed brimming with energy; not that that was unusual. She had a bounce in her step, and a gleam in her eyes.

But she was more on edge than usual, as if she were waiting for something specific. It was the same feeling he got from her when she was waiting for a plate of dango.

Ibiki glanced from his reflection in the mirror to Anko, standing expectantly in his bedroom – their bedroom, he told himself – waiting for him to get done taking his evening medication. He popped the oblong white pill in his mouth, and washed it down with a glass of water.

"What are you so excited about?" Ibiki asked mildly. He hadn't had the courage before now to take his pills in front of her; some people were discomfited by the sight. But this time, he left the bathroom door open while he took his medication. Because, after all, he didn't need privacy to do it. He'd just been wary of other people.

Anko did her best evil laughter. "This is the last date. The last date before you must give yourself to me."

Ibiki shook his head and put down his cup on the sink, then crossed into the bedroom, flicking the bathroom lights off as he went. He checked his nightstand automatically to make sure he didn't forget anything. Nope, nothing. Just his keys. He pocketed them.

"Why do you spend so much time trying to get into my pants?" Ibiki asked.

"I love your pants," Anko said. She came up behind him and unabashedly felt him up with both hands. "They're so sexy."

"You can borrow them if you want," Ibiki said, looking over his shoulder at her, amused.

"Nah, they're too big for me." Anko grinned. "But I wish I could be in them with you. That'd be nice."

He laughed. "What's going on in your dirty mind?"

"We're already doing it." Anko pointed at his bed. "Over there."

"Mm-hmm." Ibiki turned around and slipped his arms around her waist. "What's going on in your clean mind?" He kissed her lightly.

Anko laughed. "We're going to dinner. And you're buying me lots and lots of dango."

"I can do that," Ibiki said.

Anko gasped. "You're a god."

Ibiki wasn't entirely sure she was joking. "Come on, you. To the restaurant."

Anko kissed him. "Hai." Then she wrapped her legs around his waist, effortlessly clinging to him. "Carry me."

Ibiki raised an eyebrow and did as he was told. "Yes, princess."

Anko giggled. "I love it when you say that."

"It's the first time I've said that."

"I know. And I'll love it every time."

Ibiki rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but grin.

**xXx**

They went to their favorite restaurant on the edge of the village. Ibiki was glad he had taken the chance and gone with Anko to the trendy sushi restaurant. It had even been fun. But it had also been overwhelming to be around so many people, so many bright lights, and so much noise. He needed to retreat to the comfortable shadows of their old haunt.

The hostess seemed happy to see them and greeted them with genuine affection before seating them at a booth with a nice ratio of golden light and shadows, quietly separated from the other diners.

Anko ordered bubble tea and dango. Ibiki simply wanted hot tea and ice water.

He was in no hurry to order. He left the menu closed in front of him, tapping it lightly with his fingers and watching Anko instead. He wasn't sure he was hungry.

The hostess came back to serve them their drinks, and also the complimentary soup. For a moment, Ibiki just looked at it, but he couldn't resist all that egg-y, chicken-y goodness. He sighed and dipped his spoon into it, taking his first taste.

His stomach rumbled, pointedly reminding him that his lack of hunger was all in his head.

"Ne, Biki." Anko stirred her bubble tea. "What was your first kiss?"

Ibiki looked at her blankly, bemused.

"Well?" Anko took a sip, noisily sucking up one of the gelatin pearls. She chewed on it avidly. Ibiki wondered if Anko's appreciation of chewy foods bordered on a fetish.

"What, or who?" Ibiki muttered.

Anko smiled mischievously. "For some people, it's a what." She bounced in her seat. "So what was it? A vacuum cleaner?"

Ibiki laughed. "No such luck, princess. Though, you'd like a weird story like that, wouldn't you?"

Anko nodded. "Mm-hmm." She took another sip of bubble tea.

"Well, no," Ibiki said. "It wasn't anything like that." He ate a spoonful of soup before he continued. "It was you."

"What?"

Ibiki looked into his bowl of soup mildly. "It was you, Anko. You're my first kiss."

"Get outta here." Anko straightened, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Was it any good?"

Ibiki grinned at her, amused. "Yes."

Anko relaxed. "Oh, good. I wasn't going for anything special when I did it. Not first kiss material."

"Well, it was," Ibiki said. "I liked it."

Anko smiled. "You're sweet. Still, I'm glad it was a good kiss."

"Would I date you otherwise?" Ibiki raised an eyebrow.

"Probably," Anko said. "You're sweet like that. You'd give a girl a second chance."

Ibiki thought desperation had a lot more to do with that than being sweet, but he wouldn't say so. He ate his soup in silence. She let him. He knew it was his turn for questions.

"Anko…is there any particular reason why you like me?" he asked finally.

"Not particularly," Anko said. She giggled. "It's more like everything."

Ibiki rolled his eyes, but he couldn't keep from smiling. "Sure. So you like the fact that I don't have any teeth. That's a real turn-on."

Anko winked. "You know it."

Ibiki snorted. "Okay, deal. The truth, this time."

Anko rested her chin in her hand, eyes wide and thoughtful. "So…why I like you."

"Yes," Ibiki said. "Preferably before our food gets cold."

She shifted in her seat. "Just one reason?"

"Not required," Ibiki said. "But if you could think of one that would be great."

Anko stuck her tongue out at him. "First of all, it's because you have a sense of humor. I can't stand cranky people. Orochimaru was the crankiest."

Ibiki nodded. "Okay, duly noted." That seemed reasonable enough to him. They could make each other laugh. Laughter was healthy. Sane laughter was healthy, anyway.

Anko nodded to herself, straightening. "You don't treat me like a leper and you never, never call me crazy."

Ibiki was surprised, and then found himself saddened. "People don't realize how serious of an accusation that word is. I would never use the word 'crazy' around you lightly. It's too much of a damaging observation. Even for a joke."

"You get that," Anko said. She looked at him, seeming young and old at the same time. "That's why I like you."

_So…respect, and a sense of humor_. Ibiki could handle that. He grinned. "So if it's my sterling personality, how come you're trying to get into my pants all the time?"

"I figure you're pretty good there, too," Anko said matter-of-factly. "Unless you're withered up, of course. But even then, we'd find ways around that."

Ibiki choked on his own spit and took a drink of water, trying not to look horrified and embarrassed.

"What?" Anko asked. "It's not as if it's all about physical attraction. That might get you into bed with someone, but a pretty face can't fuck you senseless." She gave him a crooked smile. "Well, it can, under the right circumstances, but…" She beamed and gestured offhandedly. "You see what I'm saying, Biki. It's not about what you have. It's how you use it."

Ibiki managed to swallow the urge to blush entirely and acted as if he hadn't heard her properly. "Yes, I agree."

Anko laughed. "So it's perfectly sensible that I want to see how you are in bed. Cause I mean, come on, you're probably great. You're considerate of me in every other way there is. So you're probably considerate in bed, too."

Ibiki didn't know how to handle that kind of logic. _She's right. I would treat her well. I would…I'd do my best… _He cleared his throat. "That's…wise."

Anko grinned at him. "I know, right?" She happily devoured her bubble tea. "I'm full of wisdom. You just have to ask for it."

"I'll consider doing that more often," Ibiki said seriously. She had, in fact, opened his eyes to her ability to dispense insights. He felt humbled by his earlier insecurities. His inability to see through them, to understand what he might have to offer. _My heart. I have my heart to offer her. And it seems to matter to her._


End file.
